


Rêverie

by baekyall



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Football, M/M, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-03-21 03:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baekyall/pseuds/baekyall
Summary: Baekhyun is a figure skater, graceful in action but coarse in speech. Chanyeol is a warmhearted football player who needs to learn how to skate. They might be good for each other.





	1. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is reposted from my AFF, but it's still ongoing. I'll update both sites it's posted on at the same time!
> 
> Also: there is mentions of past bullying (physical and verbal), anxiety, probably some violence, but none of it is horribly graphic, I think.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy and give me feedback as I work toward completing my third fic! Thanks!

It all starts with a bet. Chanyeol is stupid enough to say yes. 

"Let's have a hockey game at the end of the semester," Yuta suggests, though it rings through as a command in everyone's ears.

They're in the common room of the dorm, sprawled out over multiple couches, all surveying the drama playing on the TV with varying levels of interest. At Yuta's words, everyone perks up, eyes searching between each other for a hint of resistance. When there's none found, they all begin to nod slowly. 

"Us," Yuta wraps strong arms around the two boys nearest him. His eyebrows raise in a challenge, almost cockily, and he nods towards Chanyeol's friend group. "Against you guys." 

Chanyeol feels his pride get shot at, little by little, with each second that passes. He makes eye contact with Yixing, spares a glance at Sehun, before he's nodding. He'll be damned if he lets guys from the _basketball_ team think they're better than the football team.

They've always had a rivalry -- a stupid one, but a rivalry, nonetheless -- and Chanyeol wants to cement his team as superior before his senior year is up.

Even if this game is only between a few of the members of each team, Chanyeol feels like it's his duty to represent his squad and win. It's his last chance, and he's being challenged by an underclassman. He  _can't_  turn it down. 

"What do we get?" Chanyeol asks confidently, though he wonders how much of it he's faking. Kyungsoo seems to wonder this, too, because he lets out a little chuckle from next to him.

"Bragging rights?" Doyoung hollers out. Yuta nods to his teammate, seemingly satisfied with the bet, and he stands up.

It's almost funny, how much tension is in the room over a game where the only risk is bragging rights.

Chanyeol stands, too, knowing instinctively that this must be the moment when they seal the deal and make the bet. He supposes that, as captain of the football team, it makes sense for him to be in charge of this kind of stuff, but it doesn't mean he feels any more comfortable doing it. Especially when Yuta smashes their hands together in a promise, eyes teeming with pride. 

Chanyeol is fairly sure that Kyungsoo has a friend who can skate, is certain Sehun and Yixing are roommates with a hockey player. He can find someone to teach him to skate. It won't be  _that_  hard, he reasons, and so he smiles confidently into the handshake.

\--

Baekhyun doesn't know what he's done to deserve this, for Jongdae to be begging him, eyes wide, and nodding toward an obnoxiously tall boy across the courtyard. 

He doesn't know the boy's name, but he knows the face, and he also knows that this tall boy is captain of the football team. The same people Baekhyun has sworn to hate for his years in college, if only out of spite. 

You see, Baekhyun had fallen in love with skating when he was young. Nothing came as naturally to him as gliding over ice, skates skidding and cutting through, his body twisting and jumping. It was what he loved.

But, he seemed to be the only one who thought that way. He'd been called it all -- every slur, every insult that he could think of -- in his high school years, after everyone realized he was _serious_  about becoming a professional figure skater. And no one was quite as cruel to him as the jocks were; they'd deemed it a girly sport, one that didn't deserve any credit, one that Baekhyun was an idiot for appreciating. 

Thus, Baekhyun hates every single boy on the football team, without fail. It's petty, and he knows it, but he doesn't intend to change his mind anytime soon.

So why -- God why? -- is Jongdae making puppy dog eyes while talking about this tall boy? Jongdae's thick fingers wrap around Baekhyun's hand, squeezing in a comforting way, and he nods once more in the boy's direction. 

"He just wants you to teach him how to skate," Jongdae repeats, this time slower, eyes kind. Baekhyun glares at him suspiciously. Jongdae  _knows_  how he feels about guys like the captain, knows that he would never do this. 

"Why?" Baekhyun is skeptical. And slightly angry.

_Is Jongdae being bullied into this? Is this an elaborate scheme so that tall-captain-jerk can beat me up when we're alone?_

_"_ He made some bet? I don't know. He needs to learn how to skate," Jongdae waves his lack of explanation away with a hand. "Kyungsoo asked Jongin and Jongin said he was too busy with teaching Kyungsoo, so he can't, and apparently Chanyeol -- he's the captain, tall guy, you know -- is  _really,_ really bad at skating, so the hockey guys got annoyed and gave up. So he needs a teacher, and his only connections aren't going to help him, and --" 

"Why does that matter to us, again?" Baekhyun's head hurts a little from Jongdae's speech.

There's so many names floating around in his head, and he only recognizes one: Jongin. Figure skater Jongin, his friend Jongin. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol and hockey players mean nothing to him, maybe even less than nothing, if he thinks really hard about it. 

"Jongin asked me . . . to ask you . . . to help him out," Jongdae's eyebrows crease in his unique way, becoming straight lines. "Him is Chanyeol." 

"How does Jongin even know Chan -- what's his name? Chanyeol? -- how does he even know him?" 

Baekhyun notices briefly that they're walking in the same direction as the group of boys Jongdae had pointed to earlier, can feel the familiar fear creep up into his chest at the sight of so many guys in a group, ready to turn on him.

He maintains eye contact with one of them as the pair make their way towards the group. He's medium height and has an angular face, offset with a dimply smile, and he says nothing. It's a relief. 

"Jongin and Kyungsoo are friends. Kyungsoo is on the football team. Chanyeol is captain. Simple as that," Jongdae shrugs slightly, taking a sip of his latte.

Baekhyun searches for said boy, the tall captain, and finds him scrolling through his phone at the back of the group. He's not as intimidating as Baekhyun had first assumed, but he doesn't like the way his varsity jacket sits on his shoulders, the way his long fingers tap on the keyboard of his phone. Baekhyun doesn't like the calm look on his face or the way his soft black hair moves in the wind. Something about him makes Baekhyun feel unnerved. 

"Him?" Baekhyun asks under his breath as they pass, and Jongdae nods resolutely, giving the tall boy a once-over. 

"He's hot," Jongdae points out, as though it's what Baekhyun should've said. Baekhyun stares at him, scandalized. He can't deny that Chanyeol isn't ugly, but  _hot?_ That's a bit of an overstatement. 

"Would your girlfriend be happy hearing that?" Baekhyun asks, fake disgust lacing his tone. Jongdae smiles and laughs heartily, shaking his head and nudging Baekhyun in the side playfully.

"I have a girlfriend; that doesn't mean I'm blind, Baek. I can still tell if someone is attractive, believe it or not. Plus, she'd think he's hot, too." 

Baekhyun ignores this comment and focuses on walking past the group unscathed. It's accomplished, and he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Jongdae notices and worry sets in on his features, eyes downcast and guilty. 

"I know you don't like being around them. Sorry I brought it up," Jongdae's voice is thick with regret, his usually playful tone morose.

"Jongdae. . ." Baekhyun's voice is soft.

"I don't know, I thought maybe if you hung out with Chanyeol you could see that they're not all jerks. I mean, Chanyeol is  _looking_ for someone to teach him how to skate. He won't be rude about it." 

Baekhyun feels guilty looking at his best friend, seeing the regret in his eyes, and he shakes his head.

He knows that Jongdae is trying to help. He knows that Jongin is a lovely person, and maybe Kyungsoo is by association. He understands, really.

"I can . . . give it a go. Maybe it'd be good," Baekhyun shrugs a little, feeling as though possibly this is a good turning point in his life.

He can either get over his hatred and fear, or he can be validated in his current stance. There's no way to lose, he supposes, and he nods a little to convince himself. 

"Really?" Jongdae asks, voice full of sudden happiness. 

"If I go to the Olympics, I'll have to be around a bunch of sporty assholes. It's just training for my gold medal in the future," Baekhyun jokes, wide smile forming as he waits for a response.

Jongdae guffaws and it eases his nerves even more. Jongdae plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek, which Baekhyun wipes off promptly, and the excited boy gets to texting someone on his phone. Baekhyun assumes it's Kyungsoo or Jongin and ignores it, focusing on his neglected cup of coffee, now a little cold. 

\--

**to: nini**  
_tell ur friend that his captain has a skating instructor_

**from: nini**  
_baekhyun hyung?_

**to: nini**  
_yeah. also tell him that i need chanyeol's #_

**from: nini**  
_lol ok ❤️❤️_

_\--_

Jongdae almost feels dumb, running out late at night to meet with the captain of the football team, but he's doing it anyway. His feet hit the pavement at the same time that a tall form rounds the corner, hoodie pulled over his large ears and hands shoved in his pockets.

"Chanyeol?" he asks, though he knows. The taller boy flashes him a smile and removes his hood, hair sticking out in every direction. He suddenly looks ten times less frightening, Jongdae notes.

"That's me," he says, voice deep and gravelly.

"I'm Jongdae. Baekhyun's my best friend -- he's the one who can skate." 

At the mention of Baekhyun, Chanyeol perks up, interested, and he looks behind the shorter boy, as if the skater would pop up at any minute. 

"I, uh, actually just wanted to tell you something before you started your lessons and stuff," Jongdae feels awkward. "Can you make sure that while you're with him, none of your teammates or friends or anyone says anything? He hates when people make fun of figure skating." 

He knows this is an odd talk to have, but he doesn't think he'll have a clean conscience otherwise. He can't let Baekhyun do this to be met with rudeness, or worse, cruelty. Jongdae's heard too many stories from high school, when Baekhyun gets drunk and slurs his words together and whines out awful anecdotes. He needs Chanyeol to promise this, at the very least.

Chanyeol looks puzzled. He understands where Jongdae is coming from, but he also can't wrap his head around the concept of _asking_  someone to be nice. Aren't people just nice to each other because that's what people do? Maybe it's because he's always been top of the food chain, maybe he'd just never considered that there was another option.

He looks down to catch Jongdae staring at him, brown eyes swimming with something that makes him feel guilty, as if he's already done something to offend Baekhyun, as if he's hurt the boy in some way.

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that," Chanyeol assures hurriedly. The sincerity in Jongdae's eyes has him reeling, fearing for a second that he'll fail at his task and get murdered in cold blood by this small man. 

"Thanks. Just," Jongdae shrugs slightly, looking almost sheepish. "Don't let anyone hurt him. Okay?" 

Chanyeol has no idea if Jongdae is referring to physical or psychological pain, but he feels a surge of protectiveness run through his chest. If this guy was going to teach him how to skate, the least he could do is keep him safe. Chanyeol nods more firmly this time, assured of Jongdae's request.

"I promise," Chanyeol says with a charming smile, hair fluttering in the wind.

Jongdae thinks back to Baekhyun flinching while walking past their friend group earlier, thinks of the wary eyes he'd cast to Chanyeol that very afternoon.

No matter what Baekhyun feared, Jongdae was assured, looking at the tiny smile on Chanyeol's lips, that this was a good plan. 

\-- 

Baekhyun is stretching, right leg pulled up almost vertically to his chest, cold puffs of air escaping with every breath he takes. He's in the rink; he feels at home. But still, something miniscule is _off_  because he knows the football captain will be here any minute. 

His stomach is in knots with anticipation. Slight fear or slight excitement, Baekhyun can't tell -- it all jumbles together, really. 

His leg starts to feel too heavy to hold up anymore, and so he switches to his left, rolling his shoulders to alleviate some of the pressure building up as he does it. He knows he moves fluidly from years of practice, countless nights of grueling training, but he doesn't expect any comments to be made on it. 

"You move like water! That was crazy!" 

Baekhyun jumps a little and he loses his grip on his leg, letting it fall back down. He spins around from his position near the entrance to the ice to be met with a tall boy, smiling brightly. 

Chanyeol has big teeth, big ears, and a big smile. Everything about him is large, almost comical, to a point where Baekhyun thinks maybe he imagined the lanky boy standing there. But no, Chanyeol is real, and he has dark hair swept up above a shining face, handsome and a little tan. 

"Are you Baekhyun?" the taller boy asks before Baekhyun can formulate another sentence. He feels tongue-tied at the boy's sudden appearance, and he ignores the constricting feeling in his throat when he tries to take a deep breath. 

"Yeah, that's me," Baekhyun moves to sit on a bench, feeling overwhelmed. He grabs his skates and starts loosening the laces in order to put them on. His hands are shaking a little, and Baekhyun wills himself to calm down a little. _Chanyeol seems nice enough. He hasn't said anything rude yet. Chill out._

"I'm Chanyeol," the tall boy says loudly as he scoots towards Baekhyun on the bench. "Park Chanyeol." 

"I know," Baekhyun replies lamely. He finishes tying up his skates, finally, and gives Chanyeol a glance. He's very close, very smiley, and maybe a little handsome, but Baekhyun tries his best to ignore the last part. 

"It's --" Chanyeol looks around, eyebrows furrowing together a little. "It's  _really_ cold." 

Baekhyun stares at him to check if he's joking. 

He can't find any trace of malice, any sarcasm, in his comment, only annoyance and a cute sort of pout. Then Baekhyun lets himself trail his eyes down the taller boy's figure, taking in the t-shirt and thin sweatpants he has on. 

Chanyeol does the same to Baekhyun, noticing the thermal leggings and pale blue hoodie that Baekhyun's wearing. He looks cozy.  _Oh._  

"It's an _ice_ rink," Baekhyun points out.

The shorter boy doesn't mean to sound so judgy, but it slips out. Chanyeol only covers his face in embarrassment and lets out a deep laugh, shoulders shaking. Then he looks up, mouth open in silent laughter, tears brimming at his eyes, as if it's the funniest thing that's ever happened to him. Baekhyun likes the way his eyes crinkle, feels a little warm at the taller boy gasping for air, but he shakes it away. 

 _It'll be a long few months,_ Baekhyun decides, and he heads for the ice, leaving the taller boy giggling at himself on the bench.  _A really long few months._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to a piece by Claude Debussy, which will become important later in the story. (Rêverie means: a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.)


	2. two

It takes Baekhyun less than ten minutes to see just why the hockey guys must've given up on Chanyeol. He's bad -- really, really bad. 

They finally head towards the ice, after a grueling five minute search for skates that fit Chanyeol's feet, and he can feel the nervousness rolling off the taller in waves. Maybe it's the fact that Chanyeol is just as nervous to be in this situation as he is, but Baekhyun feels more comfortable than he'd ever expected. He doesn't even remember that Chanyeol is the football captain, that Chanyeol is probably like every guy he feared in high school. 

The taller boy makes a startled noise, somewhere between a cough and a scream, as he hobbles over the ground. Baekhyun laughs out loud when the Chanyeol finally stumbles his way onto the slick surface, a sharp crack cutting the ice as he does it. Baekhyun winces at the sound of the ice recieving him, and he knows he's going to have to teach him how to balance himself properly, how to stay light on his feet.  

Chanyeol's holding onto the side of the rink for dear life, fear in his eyes, and his knees are buckling under him like a newborn deer. Baekhyun smiles at the shocked expression on Chanyeol's face, at the whiny noise he makes when he can't stand upright.

"Come here," Baekhyun motions, a few feet away. Chanyeol looks up at him, knees never ceasing their shaking, and lets out a small, relieved smile.

Chanyeol likes the way Baekhyun's tights fit him, the way the hoodie hangs off of his slim frame. He likes the way Baekhyun's skates move smoothly over the ice, legs toned and accustomed to the foreign terrain. He especially likes the soft look in the shorter boy's eyes when he lets a smile out, when he giggles at Chanyeol's misfortune.

He has a fleeting memory of Jongdae pleading with him, asking for Baekhyun's protection. Chanyeol knows now that he'd made the right choice; he doesn't want to imagine anyone making Baekhyun's smile fall. 

"I'm trying," Chanyeol wheezes out. He looks up only to notice that Baekhyun is even farther away now. He  _skated away_ from him. Chanyeol feels a little offended, slightly betrayed, and he sets his jaw as he focuses on making his way to the smaller boy. 

"That's not it," Baekhyun points out. _No shit_ , Chanyeol thinks glumly, ignoring the way his knees are still quaking, body completely off balance. It shouldn't be  _this_ hard.  

"Loosen your knees. You're not standing, you're gliding," Baekhyun's voice is firm, and Chanyeol feels his stomach churn at the sound of it. He's a good teacher, though Chanyeol's legs feel a little more like jelly than before. "Let the ice do the work for you." 

"Let the ice do the work for me?" Chanyeol repeats and he stands a little taller, unbending his knees. His balance is almost immediately improved and suddenly he thinks he might be able to stand here, stationary, as long as he needs to. 

"See?" Baekhyun points out, smile smug and arms poised at his hips. 

Chanyeol feels like a fool, but he doesn't really mind, not when Baekhyun is looking at him like that. Something about it makes his stomach twist even more, and he's a little scared by it, frankly. 

"Okay," Baekhyun says, looking down at his watch. "Let's do . . . fifteen minutes of falling." 

Chanyeol stares back, unamused at whatever joke Baekhyun is trying to pull. He can't possibly try to make Chanyeol believe that falling is a skating move, that he needs to learn  _that_. 

"Falling?" he asks incredulously. Baekhyun nods, suddenly leaning down to stretch until he holds his skates easily in his hands, entire body bent over. Chanyeol wonders if Baekhyun has any spine at all in order to do that so quickly, so easily. 

"Yeah, falling.Try to move. And when you fall, land on your butt or sides," Baekhyun explains from his hunched position. He unfolds himself then, slowly, taking deep breaths. "I'm going to practice my routine. You just focus on  _not_ breaking any bones for the next fifteen minutes. Remember: butt and sides." 

Chanyeol doesn't want to question his teacher's methods, but he also doesn't want to think about the nasty bruises he might come out of this fifteen minutes with, so he speaks up. 

"Why do I need to . . . learn that? Isn't it just instinctive to fall on your butt?" 

"Maybe in football. But you're not really sliding over a slick, unpredictable surface in football, either. It's tricky, and people break bones if they don't know how to recenter themselves when they slip." 

Chanyeol stares into his eyes for a split second, noticing something dark in them, something unexpected. He suddenly realizes that Baekhyun's probably broken a bone or two, and he nods a little, conceding to the allotted fall time. 

Then Baekhyun is off, legs pushing him forward so quickly and efficiently that Chanyeol can barely blink before he's on the other side of the rink. He watches quietly as Baekhyun clicks something on his phone and moves to the center of the rink, getting into starting position. The music is slow, calming, therapeutic almost, and Chanyeol feels immersed in Baekhyun's every facial expression, in every soft gesture his long fingers trace.

Chanyeol has no idea what the shorter boy's doing, but he stares in awe as Baekhyun completes jump after jump, legs extending smoothly to the increasingly intense piano music in the background.

The taller completely forgets that he's supposed to be falling and catching himself, but he can't help but get lost in the precise turns, the graceful spins. Baekhyun turns to look at Chanyeol, something unrecognizable on his face, before he pulls his left leg behind him, brings it up to his head, and arches his back to meet it. 

Chanyeol is a little amazed, to say the least. Maybe he should start watching the figure skating portion of the winter Olympics. 

He's not quite sure how he knows, he just  _does_ , that the music is reaching its end, that soon Baekhyun will do something incredible. He gulps in anticipation, watching Baekhyun take little hops across the ice, strong legs meeting surface effortlessly. There's a small, almost proud smile across his face now. Then Baekhyun's tongue peeks out, licks his lips, and Chanyeol knows that a jump is coming. 

He pushes off, legs extending before he's hitting the ice again and forcing himself into another jump, spinning and spinning and spinning and --

Baekhyun hits the ice hard -- on the butt, Chanyeol notices -- and he hears mumbled frustrations from across the rink. He wants to go and check on Baekhyun, wants to skate over and help him up, but he's at his limit with just standing, so he watches on, worried. It's not the first time Baekhyun's fallen, though, and he sighs as he pushes himself back to his feet. 

Looking across the ice, he notices Chanyeol's disappointed look, and it stabs him somewhere in the gut. He'd gotten cocky, had felt proud, knowing that Chanyeol was fascinated with his every move, and it had cost him. He feels embarrassed heat flooding to his cheeks and he wills it away, choosing to stare Chanyeol down instead.

"Like I said, fall!"

Chanyeol nods vehemently and tears his eyes away, inching forward with wobbly legs and outstretched arms. 

Baekhyun sighs again and skates back towards Chanyeol, not failing to notice the way the dark haired boy's eyes drift over to him warily, checking for any injuries. It sets a flame alight in Baekhyun's chest for a brief second, thinking of someone other than his mom, dad, and Jongdae being concerned for him. Chanyeol looks away as quickly as he'd started, though, and Baekhyun ignores the disappointment ringing through his mind. 

\-- 

It turns out that Baekhyun had known Chanyeol's face that day in the courtyard because they have a class together -- psychology at 10 a.m. Wednesdays and Fridays.

Baekhyun doesn't _actually_ make this discovery until he's pulled out of a daydream by an unfamiliar, gangly boy taking the seat next to his. No one ever sits on his right in this class -- ever. He looks up, shocked, and meets Chanyeol's crinkling brown eyes and dimples. 

Before he can say anything, the boy is completely settled in his seat. Baekhyun notes somewhere in the back of his mind that Chanyeol smells like cologne and lotion -- an odd combo, but Baekhyun can't judge him for being moisturized, can he? 

"Hey," Chanyeol says brightly. He searches for his notebook in his backpack, leaning practically onto Baekhyun in order to do it. Baekhyun smells the cologne stronger now, feels the drop in his stomach when Chanyeol looks up, eyes only inches away, notebook in hand. 

"Why are you sitting here?" Baekhyun asks doubtfully.

It's not that he's  _mad_ , he just can't imagine Chanyeol wanting to be around him outside of the rink. He's not popular and definitely not funny enough to entertain him.

"We can't be friends?" Chanyeol asks, eyes droopy and pitiful. Baekhyun doesn't want to sound eager and definitely doesn't want to give off the impression that he's looking for friends in the football team, so he says nothing. 

Remaining silent, highlighter in hand, he pretends to be annotating, if only to avoid Chanyeol's question. He can feel Chanyeol's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head, but he can't bring himself to say anything to confirm or deny their friendship. 

He doesn't want to get close to him. One day, Chanyeol will do something to prove that he's like the rest, and Baekhyun will only be let down more. If they're friends, then Baekhyun will have to spend time around the football team, anxiety and fear constantly raging. He'd gotten comfortable enough near Chanyeol, he supposes, but he doesn't want to open a door he can't shut. 

Their professor walks in, much to Baekhyun's relief, and he feels Chanyeol's eyes move away from him at last. He takes a deep breath, ignoring his rampant thoughts, and instead focusing on the way Chanyeol spins his pencil easily between long fingers.  

\--

_He's walking to class hurriedly, pulling his school uniform tie into place as the morning announcements blast out over the speakers. He's running late, he knows it, and he's so goddamn nervous to make an idiot of himself when he walks in._

_He sees it -- his classroom -- and sprints towards the door, but then he feels a rough hand yanking him back. He's caught off guard and he tumbles onto the floor, hitting the gray linoleum with a resounding bang. Surely, his teacher should hear this and come check on him. But his teacher doesn't -- at least not in time, before he feels a rough kick jab at his ribs._

_He cries out in pain, but it only seems to stir them on, a particularly large boy laughing out, "He skates like a girl and cries like a bitch."_

_The others hoot and holler at this, thoroughly entertained, and Baekhyun feels rough fingers lace through his hair. He's pulled up to a standing position through the grip on his head, and now his throat is in a vice-like grip. He can't scream now, not even if he wanted to, because there's no air crawling up his windpipe._

_"What? You can't run away? Legs tired?"_

_Baekhyun knows what comes next will be awful, so he braces himself, focuses on the faint blackness in the corners of his vision instead._

_"Is it because of practice? That's what you call it, right? It's just teaching you to be gay. You're probably just fucking guys all night."_

_Something wet hits his face -- spit, he thinks -- and he cringes a little, shaking his head violently against the hands holding it in place. He opens his mouth again, searching for air._

_Then he feels himself start to black out little by little, the boys snickering and landing a few weak punches on his stomach, just to make him dry heave._

_He can feel himself coming to his senses, even as the blackness creeps in, and spots of white light blurring his vision. He looks one last time at the boy holding his hair as it fades, sharp jaw line and black hair almost familiar, in a foreboding, terrifying way._

Baekhyun shoots up in bed, gasping, hands wrapped around his own throat. He sputters a little, air finally flooding into his lungs, and he forces himself tp close his eyes for a split second. He'd been doing so  _well_. 

He slips out of bed softly, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, and moves to sit by the window, just to breathe a little. He hadn't had a dream like that in almost two weeks. He'd thought he was doing better, was finally getting over the abuse he'd suffered in high school, but there were still times like tonight when they'd reappear in dream form. 

They were always abstract, never based off of something he'd experienced specifically, but more of a mash-up of all the different times he'd been confronted, all the different ways they made him hurt. But something about this one was odd; towards the end, he'd recognized a sliver of a face. A sharp jawline, soft black hair, something wholly familiar, but ultimately unknown.

Baekhyun is shaky and sweaty, but relatively composed now, heart finally slowing to a decent pace. He looks across the room to Jongdae -- who has always been a heavy sleeper -- and is comforted by the lump of blankets he sees. He can hear steady breathing from the boy and he focuses on matching his with it. 

_Calm down calm down calm down. You're fine. It's not high school; there's no one touching you, no one hurting you. Jongdae is right there. Calm down._

He pads back to the bed, regretfully noticing that it's only 3 a.m., and focuses hard on getting back to sleep.

Reflecting on the days events, his mind trails to Chanyeol's big smile and long legs, to the way he'd slid into the seat as if he was Baekhyun's best friend. That's when it hits him -- the jaw, the hair. It's Chanyeol. His brain is playing tricks on him, visualizing his fears, and he shivers. 

_It's a lie; Chanyeol has never hurt you. Your brain is being stupid, like always. Sleep._

That night, covered in blankets and a sheen of sweat, he repeats in mentally like a mantra: calm down, calm down, calm down. 

The darkness encompasses him again, this time out of sheer exhaustion, and he falls asleep with the partial image of the tall boy's face burned into his mind, as if his subconscious is warning him of something he can't quite put his finger on. 

\-- 

Jongdae notices that something is wrong with Baekhyun the second he wakes up -- the boy is frowning in his sleep, bangs plastered across his forehead in sweat. He sighs in disappointment, heart aching. He knows Baekhyun well enough to recognize that following each nightmare, he breaks out in a fever, as if his brain is trying to purge the memories through physical pain.

"Baekhyun," Jongdae stirs him awake as gently as possible.

Baekhyun gasps a little and looks around wildly before his brown eyes focus in on Jongdae, face relaxing immediately. 

"Hey, Dae," he rasps out, sitting up suddenly and shaking his aching head from side to side. 

"You okay?" Jongdae asks, but he knows the answer. Baekhyun knows he knows, and so he shrugs instead of answering. Then he's on his feet, headed toward the bathroom to clean up. He can't let the fever get the best of him, can't let Jongdae worry over something as stupid as what had happened last night. 

"I'm going to the cafe on east campus. I need coffee," a throbbing in his head punctuates his every word. "You want anything?" 

Jongdae shakes his head, no, and watches Baekhyun get ready. He's rushing, hands shaking a little, an obvious sign that he never really slept last night. Baekhyun's face is clean and teeth are brushed quickly, body wrapped in a warm coat and scarf. He's heading out the door, smiling a fake smile to Jongdae before his roommate can say a word to stop him. 

When Baekhyun is embarrassed and headstrong, there's not much Jongdae can do. He's learned to just stay at home, waiting for the moment when Baekhyun finally collapses into sleep, into sickness, and allows himself to relax. 

Baekhyun trudges across campus with determination. He wants a chai latte, and that's that. There's nothing like waking up with a nightmare induced fever than going into the early morning cold, searching for coffee. It's not that he wants to distract himself from the thought of the dream, really, he just wants coffee. 

He pushes past the door of the coffee shop, bell jingling behind him, and takes in the mass of people already there. Most are girls, since east campus is closest to the girls housing, and Baekhyun sighs a bit in relief. 

In high school, most girls had been accepting of his sport, a few going so far as to say that it was cool. Some didn't have an opinion -- or at least didn't make their opinion known -- and none of them had ever grabbed him by the throat. It's understandable why he'd choose this particular shop, even though it's quite a walk from his side of campus, he thinks. 

Which is why seeing Chanyeol approaching the cafe shocks him so much. Suddenly, he's back in the dream, a long hand closing around his throat and holding him up. He's shaking violently now, and it intensifies when the tall boy pushes the door open with a slight yawn. Chanyeol's in sweatpants and a sweaty t-shirt, obviously coming back from a workout or something.

Baekhyun contemplates how much he needs this coffee. He'd come because coffee kept him awake, kept him from dreaming, but now? It might be better to go home and sleep, no matter the nightmares that unfold behind his eyelids.

He's still debating when the tall boy moves in line behind him, wide smile gleaming in the golden sunshine of the early morning. It's a beautiful smile, but something about seeing Chanyeol's face, watching his long fingers remove earbuds, sends him back to a place of fright, of clawing desperation. He doesn't want to black out; he wants to breathe.

"Baekhyun! You're here for breakfast? I love the --" 

Baekhyun turns away from him, ignoring the bile rising in his throat, the uncontrollable fidgeting of his hands. He knows he's overreacting, is completely positive than Chanyeol has never touched a hair on his head, but there seems to be a disconnect between his body and logic at the moment.

He's so, so scared. 

"Baekhyun? You okay?" Chanyeol asks softly, concerned. Baekhyun closes his eyes, feeling a little dizzy. He should've slept more. He feels weak and stupid and pathetic right now. He's acting like a baby, on the verge of tears, over someone who'd never done him any wrong. 

Without a response, Chanyeol takes a chance and reaches out slowly. His fingers only barely brush Baekhyun's upper arm before the shorter boy is jumping away, a strangled cry slipping into the silent air of the coffee shop, as if he's been burned. 

They stare at each other in shock. Baekhyun's eyes are a dark brown and they're clouded with fear. Chanyeol takes a moment, tries to decipher what Baekhyun's thinking to no avail.

And then Baekhyun moves silently around him, pushing his way back out into the wind, away from the cozy shop, away from the confused boy. He doesn't think he can handle it right now -- he'd felt way too close to passing out back there. 

Chanyeol swallows a lump in his throat. He can't stop thinking about the promise he'd made -- a promise to protect Baekhyun. And now he's the one who hurts Baekhyun, though he can't think of a reason why. 

He replays the frightened look in Baekhyun's eyes, the way he'd immediately scurried away from Chanyeol's touch. He feels a little sick to his stomach, too


	3. three

Baekhyun finds himself staring at his phone, bottom lip between his teeth. He has no idea how to do this. 

He'd asked Jongdae for Chanyeol's number to apologize, but now that he's staring at his keyboard, he's drawn a blank. He can't think of a single way to coherently express what had happened in the coffee shop, to properly apologize. He knows Chanyeol must hate him now. 

"Should I say that I got his number from you?" Baekhyun asks nervously. Jongdae looks up from his laptop screen, face illuminated and eyes shimmering with something mysterious. 

"I don't think he'd question it, though. It's probably not necessary. Just text him what you want and say it's Baekhyun." 

Baekhyun frowns, turning to stare at the blank screen in front of him. Jongdae makes it sound like it's easy. He shakes his head and types, hoping that whatever his fingers decide, it's coherent.

**to: chanyeol**   
_hey this is baekhyun. i want to say i'm sorry for what happened at the coffee shop. i was feeling sick and didn't want to throw up on you._

Baekhyun regrets mentioning vomit the second he sends it, and he immediately types out an amendment. He needs to save whatever image he still has, needs to distract Chanyeol from  _that_  comment. 

**to: chanyeol**   
_and also sorry for what happened in psych. i've been really out of it lately._

Was that enough? Baekhyun panics; he doesn't want to  _triple_  text. He catches Jongdae smirking at him and decides that, yeah, who cares. Jongdae's already going to make fun of him for this, he might as well go all the way and finish on a good note. 

**to: chanyeol**   
_i'll see you tomorrow for skating practice. dress warmly._

He throws his phone onto the pillow next to him, heart racing. His fever has gone down by now, but he's still on edge due to the nightmare and Chanyeol sighting. He should've waited to text Chanyeol when he wasn't feeling so out of it, when he could trust that his heart wasn't going to explode at the thought of confrontation.

"Send it?" Jongdae asks knowingly. Baekhyun nods and looks back to where his phone is laying. There are no notifications, and it should soothe his nerves, but instead it only intensifies the sweat on his palms.

Then he hears a ding and watches as his screen lights up, Chanyeol's name prominently displayed. Baekhyun's heart skips -- out of fear, he tells himself -- and he swipes to read it with shaky fingers. 

**from: chanyeol**   
_It's okay! I'm just glad you're okay! P.S. Are you still sick? Do you need anything? I can be over in five minutes. (I run a lot.)_

Baekhyun almost screams at how  _Chanyeol_  that text is. He's so fucking nice, so positive. He has perfect grammar. He actually writes out "P.S." What a _dork,_  Baekhyun thinks, cheeks flushing. He suddenly feels like a fool for getting scared earlier, for freaking out. He knows it was a reflex, but he honestly can't think of someone more harmless than Chanyeol.

**to: chanyeol**   
_no im ok. my roommate is taking care of me. thx for asking_

He feels a little dismissive, but maybe that's the way he should be. Maybe he'd given Chanyeol too much leeway, allowed him to feel too comfortable. But then Baekhyun's mind flashses to the kind eyes, the glimmering smile that Chanyeol shows so frequently. Chanyeol is nice, he decides. He deserves kindness in return, deserves a skating teacher that isn't so messed up and weird. 

"You look seriously sad. Did Chanyeol say something mean?" Jongdae pipes up, concern lacing his normally loud voice. Baekhyun gulps and shakes his head, no.

It's the opposite; Chanyeol is too nice, overly kind. He makes Baekhyun feel comfortable despite the dream. His brain had definitely been wrong. If anything, Chanyeol needed protecting from him. 

\--

"You're already doing better," Baekhyun says encouragingly, trying his very best to be kind with the tall boy. He doesn't want a repeat of the cafe -- he'd be mortified if his fears ever overtook him like that again. 

With a day between his nightmare and meeting Chanyeol, he's calmed down considerably. He doesn't feel fear when he sees his jaw or large hands anymore. Instead, there's a sort of drop in his stomach, but that's manageable, Baekhyun reasons.

Chanyeol is almost sweating, despite the fact that he's done little to nothing this lesson. Baekhyun had taken advantage of his newfound ability to stand and glide when pushed -- and now he's sliding around the entire rink, Baekhyun's small hands urging him on every few feet. He can't believe it's such a task to keep his balance; this should be easier than it is. 

But what he's really exhausted from is the way Baekhyun's fingers send a tingle down his spine, settling uncomfortably in his stomach. He can't get the thrill he feels each time out of his head, can't stop the way he focuses only on Baekhyun's soft breathing and gentle fingertips. 

He refocuses himself to watch his feet skid over the ice, focusing on angling them how Baekhyun had shown him earlier. He can't fall, not when he knows Baekhyun's slim fingers will be there to catch him. He's scared of the feeling Baekhyun gives him with each soft look, each soft touch. 

After their last meeting, Chanyeol had been convinced Baekhyun hated his guts. But now, Baekhyun's closer than ever, silky hair and pink cheeks only a meter away. In his usual tight black leggings and sweatshirt (this time, only slightly oversized and a dark purple,) Baekhyun is breathtaking, in a casual, intimidating, perfect Baekhyun way.

"I'm not even doing anything. You're doing all the work." 

He worries for a second that Baekhyun will think he's being snippy, will run away like the coffee shop. At this point, Chanyeol would do anything to make sure Baekhyun isn't scared of him. He opens his mouth to apologize, but he can't get a word out before Baekhyun responds in an equally annoyed tone. 

"Okay, then do the work yourself. Go for it," Baekhyun's face is cocky, challenging. Chanyeol frowns a little when Baekhyun's hands don't find his hips like they had been -- he's on his own now. 

"I can't." 

Chanyeol watches as a tiny smile overtakes Baekhyun's face, obviously pleased that he's proven his point. 

"If you want to be taught, listen to me. If you're already a professional skater, why are you here?" Baekhyun teases, but his eyes are free from malice. 

Chanyeol sucks in a deep breath when Baekhyun skates in front of him, grabbing his two hands on the way. Baekhyun notes that Chanyeol's hands are soft and warm, unlike the rough ones in his dream. Internally, his brain sings with relief. He has no reason to fear Chanyeol; he doesn't think even his brain could create a fake connection between the two. 

"Okay, watch me," Baekhyun says in his instructing voice, knowledgeable and soft. Chanyeol nods automatically, gently squeezing Baekhyun's smaller hands as a way of telling him he's ready, and the shorter boy's heart thrums at the gesture. 

Baekhyun is facing him, skating backwards, hands wrapped in his. He's pulling Chanyeol slowly down the side of the rink, soft eyes focused on Chanyeol's form. 

"You see how my feet are moving?" Chanyeol looks down to stare at Baekhyun's white skates, at the way they cut through with every gentle movement, languidly tracing waves against the ice. "Okay, now watch." 

Baekhyun spins then, hands guiding Chanyeol's larger ones to rest on his waist. Chanyeol turns red at the now compromising position, at the taut muscles he can feel on Baekhyun's abdomen, at the curve of his slim waist. He wants to retract his hands and look away, but Baekhyun's hands won't let him, holding him close. 

"Look at how my feet are moving now." 

Chanyeol looks down, noticing that Baekhyun's feet are moving much more vertically and horizontally instead of curved. There's less flow to it, more technicality. 

"Hold on," Baekhyun warns softly, and then he's speeding up and Chanyeol is being pulled along by strong hands on a firm waist. He feels like he's flying, like Baekhyun is going at a supersonic speed, though he knows that he's watched Baekhyun go faster than this before. 

"Keep your hands on my waist," Baekhyun reminds, as if sensing that Chanyeol's lost in awe and not holding on as tightly. Chanyeol blushes at the reminder of their position; somehow, hearing it out loud is embarrassing. "Watch my feet again."

Chanyeol does as he's told, hands tightening around Baekhyun's waist and eyes trained to the smaller's skates. 

Now it seems like a mixture of both, like Baekhyun is running with no effort. It's fluid, but something about it is desperate, rough. Chanyeol doesn't understand how the Baekhyun's ankles bend so easily, conforming to match the ice and take it all in turn. There's something special about this, when Baekhyun's speeding down the ice, that makes Chanyeol's throat close up. It's so  _beautiful_.

"See how I'm not just going back and forth?" He hears Baekhyun's voice as if he's far away. "And it's not  _all_  curves. See that? That's how you keep your speed up with control." 

Chanyeol makes a sound in agreement, still transfixed on the feeling of Baekhyun's waist under his hands, at the way his legs move so quickly and gracefully in front of him. Baekhyun goes a little red at the large hands fully wrapped around him. He ignores the way his stomach drops again, like when he'd first seen Chanyeol this afternoon, instead telling himself to calm down.

 _You lift girls all the time. You get lifted all the time. Touching isn't a big deal_. 

As if to prove something to himself, Baekhyun lays a hand on top of Chanyeol's left. He can feel the thrumming of Chanyeol's pulse, the heat his large hand gives off, the way his fingers curl tighter into the shorter boy's waist. 

When Baekhyun finally slows down and lifts his hand off of Chanyeol's, the boy lets a small breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It's like a spell has been broken and the two seperate almost instantly, Chanyeol gliding away with wobbly legs, this time completely unrelated to his level of skating talent. 

Baekhyun coughs a little and goes to practice his routine, telling Chanyeol with a wavering voice to go around the rink as many times as he can, moving his feet like Baekhyun had just shown him. 

\-- 

"You guys don't  _understand_ ," Chanyeol laments, ignoring the giggles his teammates throw his way. "It's not like us." 

"What do you mean?" Kyungsoo's voice is deep and slightly confused, bordering on amused. 

"It's different! Like, here, Sehun, stand up." 

The tall boy laughs and stands, discarding his hat by the foot of Kyungsoo's bed. He nods, bracing himself for whatever the captain is about to do. Kyungsoo shakes his head and checks to make sure no valuables are left out in his dorm. There's no guarantee what Chanyeol and Sehun will do -- they've broken things before. 

Chanyeol rams into Sehun, shoulders hitting violently, and pulls the lanky boy into a brief hug. He slaps his back and pulls away just as quickly, a proud smile on his face, looking like he's proved something.

"See? That's how _we_  are on the field. It's just like, casual, you know," Chanyeol seems to think that he's made a breakthrough in what he's explaining, but the other two boys look just as confused as before. 

" _And_?" Sehun questions, sounding annoyed. 

"Well, when it's figure skating, everything's way more intimate. You have to be close and touch each other and -- " 

"Are you sure your instructor isn't just making a pass at you?" Kyungsoo speaks up, thick eyebrows raising. There's a smirk folding the corners of his lips, eyes studying the tallest boy carefully. 

Chanyeol stares at him, mouth agape, and tries to ignore the way his heart jumps at those words. _Baekhyun wouldn't,_ he's sure,  _Baekhyun doesn't like me_. 

"What?" Chanyeol sputters out. 

"Jongin's been teaching me, and he doesn't hold my hands or get close to me," Kyungsoo shrugs innocently. 

At this, Sehun lets out a high-pitched cackle, shoulders shaking. "That's because you scare Jongin. He's had a crush on you for  _years_. He just knows you'd snap him in half if he touched you like that." 

Kyungsoo doesn't seem to have any prior knowledge about Jongin's feelings, much less the fear of him, and it's the shortest boy's turn to color pink. Chanyeol watches as Kyungsoo looks away, suddenly quiet and awkward. 

"He's not  _scared_  of me," Kyungsoo grumbles as he plays with the frayed sleeve of his hoodie. "We're friends."

"Okay, okay, you guys are friends. Anyway, Chanyeol, back to the guy who likes you?" 

Chanyeol shakes his head frantically, suddenly embarrassed. 

"He  _doesn't_  like me. He's actually been avoiding me, so," Chanyeol rubs the back of his neck. The other two boys make furtive eye contact and suddenly they're pulling Chanyeol to sit on the bed with them, gossip mode fully on.

"Oh?" Sehun giggles, poking a pointy finger into Chanyeol's sides. 

"It's not like that. Nevermind. I can't talk to you guys about  _anything_." 

"Wait, wait," Kyungsoo's voice rings through, stopping Chanyeol from getting up. "Byun Baekhyun, right? I've heard he's, uh, not very nice. I didn't think he'd even agree to teach you, honestly." 

Chanyeol feels a little offended at the description, conjuring up the image of a smiling Baekhyun in front of his eyes, thinking of the way his features relaxed when he focused in psych. How is Baekhyun not  _nice?_

"What? No!" 

Kyungsoo shrugs, shoulders brushing Sehun's wide ones. At this, Sehun looks up and nods a little, mumbling a faint, "Are you sure he lets you touch him? I've heard he freaks out when people get near him. Like,  _freaks_  out." 

Chanyeol thinks of the small hand that had wrapped around his, anchoring him to the waist of the shorter boy, of the way he'd grabbed his hands that day. 

"I don't think you guys know him very well," Chanyeol is resolute. Baekhyun had only freaked out once in front of him, but it was never violent or mean, just running away from the coffee shop. And he'd apologized that night -- he'd even searched for Chanyeol's number to do it. 

"I just heard rumors about him in high school, okay? He's the pride of the figure skating department and kind of," Sehun looks away from Chanyeol's intense glare to fidget with the bedspread. "Kind of . . . off." 

Chanyeol huffs and stands then, purposely letting Sehun's hat fall on the floor, where he's sure to stand on it. 

"I'll show you guys, he's nice and definitely not  _off_ , whatever that means." 

Kyungsoo and Sehun spare a regretful look at each other as Chanyeol storms out of the room, obviously agitated. Maybe they should've said anything after all.

\-- 

Chanyeol is determined. He'll prove Sehun and Kyungsoo wrong; he'll make sure to clear Baekhyun's name. _Isn't this part of Jongdae's request?_ he reasons.

The lecture hasn't started yet when he walks in, spotting the empty seat next to Baekhyun like always. He'd been sitting there every class but he'd never forced Baekhyun to interact with him, mostly because he's scared to push Baekhyun too far, to lose anything between them. 

"Hey," Chanyeol says in his low voice, sliding into his chair. Baekhyun looks up, eyes shining and black hair silky, and nods towards Chanyeol in greeting. 

"Baekhyun," he starts, gauging the look on the shorter boy's face when he says it. He looks surprised, but definitely not scared or angry, and so he proceeds. "How did you meet Jongin?" 

Baekhyun looks confused, but it seems like a comfortable topic. Baekhyun moves to respond and Chanyeol watches the way his pink lips open, the way his two front teeth stick out a little, the way every part of him moves within a second. Fascinated, Chanyeol almost misses the answer.

"We were both freshmen here. We had to do pair skating, and I was really scrawny back then, so I didn't feel confident lifting a girl or anything," Baekhyun smiles a little as he says it, embarrassed.

Chanyeol chances a look at the strong arm muscles and he remembers the feeling of abs, of the muscles that make up every part of Baekhyun. He gulps a little and ignores the way Baekhyun notices, the way their eyes meet in the middle, somewhat of an understanding laying between them.

"So, we partnered up. I let him do the lifting, and I focused on helping his technique. We were a good team, so we became friends," Baekhyun finishes his story with a small smile, a little shrug.

He's overjoyed that Chanyeol asked him about his personal life, that someone cares about the dumb figure skating stories he's told Jongdae hundreds of times. It's refreshing to have someone else listening, to have a tall boy ogling his biceps in the middle of psych. 

"My friend Kyungsoo knows him, so I was just curious," Chanyeol shrugs, trying to look like he wasn't trying extremely hard to get a conversation started. He'd planned out what to ask for two days, and Jongin was the best he could come up with. It's a little pitiful, really. 

"Is he on the team?" Baekhyun seems genuinely interested, and it sends a pleasing shock through Chanyeol's system. Baekhyun, of course, knows the answer -- Jongdae had told him the first day he heard about Chanyeol -- but he doesn't want to stop the sparkle in the taller's eyes, doesn't want to give up on the conversation. 

"Yeah, Kyungsoo's on the team. He's short, but really strong, don't be fooled." 

"Unlike you. You're all skinny and scrawny," Baekhyun points out, a small smile forming on his pink lips, a teasing glimmer in his eye. Chanyeol should feel belittled by the comment, but all he can think is how pretty Baekhyun is when he smiles. 

"I'm  _lanky_ , thank you very much. And I'm very strong, okay?" Chanyeol asserts, flexing. The effect is lost due to the sweatshirt he has on, and Baekhyun snickers under his breath, obviously amused. 

"Okay, okay, you're  _lanky_ ," Baekhyun agrees, flipping through his notebook to find the place where he'd last stopped notes. 

"Are you free Saturday?" Chanyeol asks abruptly. Baekhyun looks up from his notebook, kind of shocked, and shakes his head before he can think about it. Chanyeol's smile gleams and he puts his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes widening as if he's begging. 

"Then, do you want to go to a party? My friend's throwing one. I think it'd be fun," Chanyeol studies the face that Baekhyun makes at the word party. "You know, outside of practice bonding." 

Baekhyun knows that there shouldn't be bonding, in or outside of practice, but the look in Chanyeol's eyes has him wavering. Chanyeol is suddenly thankful that not many people sit by them in this class -- this was seriously embarrassing. He feels like he's asking Baekhyun out on a date. 

"I could go for a few minutes, I guess," Baekhyun agrees, cheeks heating up.

He turns away then, focusing on his notebook again, and Chanyeol tries to calm his shaking hands before the lecture starts. He feels like he just asked Baekhyun out and Baekhyun said  _yes_. 


	4. four

Baekhyun is nervous,  _really_  nervous, as he trudges across campus to the address Chanyeol had texted him. The party is somewhere in the dorms by the sports complex -- which only adds to Baekhyun's anxiety -- and he'd been walking for five minutes already. His legs are tired from practicing earlier that day and he has a headache from the book he'd been annotating before he left his room, so it's needless to say that he's not in the best mood.

The thought of being surrounded by football boys and basketball boys and hockey boys and god-knows-what boys only makes him more nauseous, more uncomfortable, so he focuses on the way his knees peek through the holes in his jeans, the way the black fabric makes his legs look longer than they actually are.

(Jongdae had told him it was sexy, and that you need to be sexy to go to a party, so he'd obliged.)

The only beacons of hope at this party -- God, why did he  _agree_  to go to this? -- are Jongdae and Chanyeol. He knows that Jongdae will put his tiny body between Baekhyun and anyone who makes him uncomfortable, and he's confident that Chanyeol's goofy smiling face will calm him down. _You'll be okay. Jongdae and Chanyeol are here. It's okay._

Jongdae lets out a frustrated noise from beside him, causing Baekhyun to turn in surprise. He notices that Jongdae's frantically texting his girlfriend, trying to persuade to her come out with them, obviously disliking the idea of babysitting Baekhyun alone all night. Baekhyun understands; he wants Jongdae to have a good time, too. 

Baekhyun checks his phone out of habit, noticing that no one has messaged him. It makes him feel a little empty, if he has to admit it, but then he hears thumping music and sees faint lights through windows and realizes that they're  _here_. 

"Jongdae, I think this is it," Baekhyun points out, flinching at the sound of yelling voices, of loud laughter. He realizes then that they're  _all_  loud like Chanyeol, that this party isn't a small get together.

"Holy shit. Baekhyun, you got invited to some Gatsby party," Jongdae does a wolf whistle as he pushes his way through the door of the dorm. "There's no way you're going to find Chanyeol in here."

Baekhyun stares down the halls which, as Jongdae pointed out, seem to be teeming with people, with noise. Baekhyun's hands go a little sweaty, slightly nervous at the sheer amount of people in building. He can't believe he showed up for this. 

"Baek, you wanna go home?" Jongdae asks quietly, leading him through the crowds of people, comforting hand wrapped around his wrist. 

Baekhyun almost nods, but then he thinks he sees Chanyeol's head in the crowd, and he remembers the reason he came, so he stays silent. He needs to say hi to Chanyeol, leave, and be proud of himself for facing a group of athletes. 

"I'll be okay," Baekhyun reassures as Jongdae pulls them into a corner of the common room, away from the large group having a drinking contest in the middle. A large boy almost bumps into Baekhyun and he jumps away, heart racing, fear coursing through his body, before he wills it to go away with deep breaths. 

Jongdae doesn't seem too sure, but he nods anyway, and makes a drinking motion. Baekhyun nods almost hesitantly, but then thinks about how much a drink would let him relax, and he nods more confidently a second later. Smiling, Jongdae nods back and leaves to get them drinks. 

It's only after three of said drinks that Baekhyun feels comfortable enough to sway with the music, to smile back at Jongdae, to not feel like he's drowning in a sea of men waiting to beat him up. Maybe it's not  _that_  bad, then.

He still hasn't found Chanyeol, but he does see someone from the football team in the corner across from him, tall and broad, extremely close to another man, smirk on his face. Baekhyun feels his cheeks flush as he watches their hands wind together, at the way they move against each other to the beat. Their hands and lips and hips are glued together, smiles radiant in the dim room.

He didn't know anyone on the football team was gay, much less so openly, and he has to swallow hard at the thought of whether Chanyeol thinks that's bad or not. He'd never told him, really, that he liked guys. But Baekhyun assumed that Chanyeol would assume, would figure it out, at some point.

Then tall boy's hand detangles from the other's and moves down to squeeze waist and hips and ass. It's a lot to look at, and Baekhyun takes another swig from his cup, clearing his head of thoughts, and looks away. 

Jongdae's gone again, this time because his girlfriend showed up and he wants to meet her at the door, and so now Baekhyun is alone and slightly tipsy. It's a bad combination, but no one has bothered him, so he thinks he'll be fine for the five minutes it'll take for Jongdae to return. He finds out after a few seconds and several sips that he's wrong. 

Apparently, drunk him is impatient, and so he finally texts Chanyeol. He feels a little dejected, a little forgotten by the taller. Why had he not even  _asked_ if he'd showed up?

**to: chanyeol**   
_i'm at party. it's crowded. kind of lost_

Baekhyun watches as it sends, heart thumping, hoping for Chanyeol to find him and say hi so that he can leave soon. The drinks are hitting him pretty quickly and he's never been the best drinker in the first place. The atmosphere is making him a little dizzy, especially when he's sans Jongdae, so he's started to feel pretty out of it. 

Then his phone starts to vibrate, a call coming through, and Baekhyun picks up when he sees the familiar name illuminate his screen. 

"Where are you?" Chanyeol's voice is deep on the phone, and very loud, since he's screaming over the music. 

Baekhyun isn't sure if Chanyeol will be able to hear his answer, but he takes a chance and yells a little, too. 

"In the corner of the common room," Baekhyun feels too loud, bordering on annoying, since it's not as wild in here. "I'm by, uh, a ping-pong table." 

"Oh! I'll be there in a minute! Don't move!" 

Baekhyun hears the phone cut off and he smiles a little at the thought of the tall boy running through crowds of people to find him. Maybe it makes his cheeks a little warm, his stomach a little nervous, but he blames the alcohol and lack of food. 

Someone touches his arm and he turns, smiling, expecting Chanyeol or Jongdae. Except it's not; it's some guy who Baekhyun has never seen in his life. He's not particularly tall, but he still towers over Baekhyun, and his smile makes Baekhyun uncomfortable. Baekhyun wants to think it's the alcohol that makes him brave enough to pull away violently, pushing the guy's hand off of him. 

"Don't touch me," Baekhyun slurs a little. But he's so  _mad_ , and this guy is so stupid, and he can't believe he came to this party. Who just touches someone they don't know? 

"Whoa, chill out," the guy smiles again, putting his hand back on the crook of Baekhyun's elbow, holding him in place. The anger dissapates and the only thing coursing through his veins now is fear -- a lot of it. This guy wouldn't leave him alone, even when he was mean, and now Baekhyun feels a little sick to his stomach. Why wouldn't he let  _go_?

"Don't touch me," Baekhyun says again, but this time it comes out quieter, and Baekhyun watches something flicker in the guy's eyes. He knows Baekhyun's scared, can probably feel Baekhyun's arm shaking a little. "Stop." 

"Why are you so scared?" the guy has an odd smile, too wide, and Baekhyun kind of feels like crying. He feels like he's in his high school, like he has no way of fighting back, like he's scrawny and dumb and fifteen again. 

"I'm not. I just don't want to be fucking touched," Baekhyun quips back, regaining a hint of anger, but it's gone again when the guy's grip tightens. 

"I just wanted to talk to you," he seems angry now, and the grip on Baekhyun's elbow hasn't loosened up at all. "Why are you such a little bitch?"

Baekhyun feels fire burn through his stomach at that word, at the memories of rough hands shoving him down, at the sudden taste of blood in his mouth, as if it's real. He can't tell if he's hallucinating or completely lucid, but he suddenly feels like all of his nightmares are coming true at once, like he's being transported to a place where he's in pain again. 

He doesn't want to shake or cry or anything, but he can't help it, not when this guy is cornering him, rough grip on his arm numbing him. He feels trapped. 

"I'm not being a little bitch," Baekhyun gasps out, pushing the hand off his arm again, this time hard enough to make the boy lose his balance and trip. Baekhyun regrets it when he watches the way the guy's eyes darken, at the way he covers up embarrassment with anger.

 _"_ Fuck you," the boy spits out at him, obviously livid.

The guy raises an arm and Baekhyun closes his eyes, sudden fear and familiarity too much. He can't move, can't breathe. It's just like high school, just like all the times he'd dreamt this and woke up screaming. Except this time, it's real life and he's about to get beat up in front of a group of people. At least in high school they'd kept it more private; they'd never attacked him in front of the whole school, never in a crowded room. 

He feels a sudden rush of wind moving toward him and he  _knows_  that it's the guys arm, that he's about to be punched, that soon he'll be tasting real blood. But nothing ever happens, no punch ever hits him. Instead, the rush of air is accompanied by the familiar scent of Chanyeol, by the presence of a tall boy in front of him, of strong arms holding the other guy's hand midair. 

"Fuck off," the guy says to Chanyeol, trying to wrench his hand away from the iron grip. But it's to no avail; Chanyeol has strong arms and seems furious, seems angrier than Baekhyun haf ever imagined him being.

" _You_  fuck off," Chanyeol responds, pushing the guy's arm back harshly, leaving him stumbling back a few feet.

It all happens too fast for Baekhyun to see what happens, but he hears the noise Chanyeol makes when the other boy lands a punch square on his cheekbone. Baekhyun realizes that he's screaming as he watches Chanyeol cover his face and turn away from the boy, purposely blocking every punch from getting close to Baekhyun. 

"Chanyeol!" Baekhyun knows he sounds scared, but he can't understand why Chanyeol isn't fighting back, why Chanyeol is blocking him instead of focusing on himself. He lets a shaky hand reach out to hold Chanyeol's waist, the way Chanyeol had held his, and he pulls on his shirt, trying to get him to back out of the way. 

Baekhyun registers that now the entire room is watching. A few seconds pass and Baekhyun watches, feeling nauseous, as the guy gets in a few more punches to Chanyeol's face. Baekhyun hears a crunch that can only be a nose and he thinks he might _actually_  vomit, that he might just pass out at the thought of the violence, of the blood, that he's causing.

Before the guy can get another hit in on Chanyeol, the tall boy from across the room has the guy in a headlock, screaming something about "What the fuck, Chanyeol! Why didn't you fucking _punch_  him!" 

Baekhyun watches as the tall boy drags the man out of the room, strong arms wrapping around his neck threateningly. Then there's more guys gathering, examining Chanyeol, obviously angry and concerned. Baekhyun feels like an intruder, but, most of all, he feels like the reason Chanyeol is in pain now. 

He's shaking and now he really wants to cry, hearing the whimpers Chanyeol lets slip when a short boy touches his face.

Chanyeol shakes his teammates away with a hurried explanation, one arm reaching back to feel for Baekhyun, stopping when his hand meets the one Baekhyun still has on his waist. He grabs it, steadying Baekhyun and himself, and Baekhyun lets himself cry a little when he feels the way Chanyeol's breathing is constricted against his hand. 

"Sorry," Baekhyun whispers, but he's not sure if Chanyeol can hear it, not positive that Chanyeol can hear anything over the shouts and music and the pounding in his ears. 

If the tall boy does hear, the only reaction Baekhyun gets is a step closer to him, a hand tightening around his. Baekhyun is still shaking, but he feels less lightheaded with Chanyeol's cologne and warm hand reminding him that nothing happened. 

Jongdae is back now, screaming in his loud voice, panicked. 

He meets Baekhyun's eyes and relief fills the air between them. Then he's behind Chanyeol, too, hands on Baekhyun's cheeks, checking for injuries but finding only teardrops. "Baek, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left." 

Baekhyun shakes his head, knowing deep down that that guy wouldn't have cared if Jongdae was here either. He seemed self-entitled, overly confident, violent. Jongdae's presence wouldn't have changed the outcome; if anything, both himself and Jongdae would be bleeding now. 

"Nothing happened," Baekhyun tells him, voice a little rough from holding in his tears earlier. Saying it out loud only seems to make his composure worse, and he lets out a little sob, an embarrassing one, he notes. 

Chanyeol finally turns around at that, eyes full of concern and face full of blood. Baekhyun gasps at the red gushing from his nose, at the way his lip is already swollen. He looks  _horrible_ , but he still smiles at the shorter boy, wincing when his lip won't move like he needs it to. 

"Oh my god, I'm so  _sorry_ ," Baekhyun whimpers, suddenly hating how little he could do in that situation, how weak he feels. 

"It's not your fault," Chanyeol's voice is deep and soft, smooth. "It's that jerk's fault. You didn't do anything." 

Baekhyun feels a little more reassured when Chanyeol manages a real smile this time without flinching, but then blood runs into his mouth and Chanyeol sputters at the taste. Baekhyun winces and reaches a sleeve up to wipe Chanyeol's nose, but the taller pushes his away softly. 

"No, that shirt's cute," Chanyeol chides, wiping his nose with his own elbow, wincing only slightly at the contact. Baekhyun feels himself turn red, embarrassed. He owes Chanyeol so much and yet all he can think about is Chanyeol stepping in front of him, of the way Chanyeol's smile had looked even with his face bloodied. 

"I should leave," Baekhyun points out, hands finally stilling a little. Chanyeol seems to ponder something for a minute before he's nodding. 

"I'll walk you back," Chanyeol says resolutely, turning to smile at Jongdae. Jongdae spares Baekhyun a worried look, but then he grins back at Chanyeol, as if saying that he'll stay here. Baekhyun didn't know that they'd even  _known_  each other, much less that they're close enough to communicate through eye contact only. 

"Okay," Baekhyun agrees because, honestly, Chanyeol walking him home sounds better than walking alone or forcing Jongdae to ditch his girlfriend right away. He can't shake the feeling the guy had given him, the intense fear. 

They walk in silence in the cold wind after Chanyeol assures him that his nose isn't broken (he broke it during a game once; he remembers the feeling) and Baekhyun assures Chanyeol that he's stopped shaking. Chanyeol realizes that he likes the way the chilly weathr makes Baekhyun's cheeks pink, likes the way his legs look in those jeans, likes the way his eyes shine when moonlight is reflected in them.

They're almost to Baekhyun's dorm, the air stale with the scent of blood and unsaid words, when Baekhyun finally looks at him straight on. 

"Why didn't you punch him back?" Baekhyun's voice is a little annoyed, as if he's angry at Chanyeol letting himself get attacked. Baekhyun has never seen him play but he knows Chanyeol is strong and tall and could've taken that guy out in a minute -- it doesn't make sense. 

"I don't want to get kicked off the team," Chanyeol explains, voice sheepish and gravelly. "Fighting back isn't really allowed, if your coach finds out." 

Baekhyun nods a little morosely. He should be satisfied by that answer -- it's a perfectly good one, in fact -- but he feels a little let down. 

"Also, I don't," Chanyeol sighs and looks away like he's embarrassed to continue. Baekhyun can hear it in his voice, notices it in the way his hands fidget.

"Don't what?" Baekhyun prompts, interest piquing. Chanyeol looks at the shorter boy, heat pooling in his cheeks and stomach. 

"I don't want to, you know, be violent. I don't want you to be scared of me like you were of that guy." 

Baekhyun can't help it when he smiles this time, pink cheeks deepening their shade. Chanyeol didn't want to be  _scary_  to him. The taller boy watches as Baekhyun reacts, dimple popping up for a split second when his smile stretches his cheeks out, transfixed. Then he realizes that Baekhyun is laughing at him, giggling over his pain. 

"Don't laugh!" Chanyeol whines in his deep voice, burying his red face in his hands. He regrets it immediately, though, because he yelps in pain at the forgotten nose injury. It only sends the pair into more smiles, a sort of warmth filling the air between them. 

"Okay, okay, I won't laugh," Baekhyun promises. They're standing in front of his dorm now, breeze shuffling through their jackets and hair. 

"I'll see you at practice?" Chanyeol says it like a question, and he's rewarded with a soft smile and nod from Baekhyun. 

"Thank you," Baekhyun says suddenly, and now it's his turn to be embarrassed. "Really. I don't know what would've happened. Thanks." 

Chanyeol smiles at him fondly, large hands reaching out to ruffle Baekhyun's hair in a playful way. Baekyun almost flinches, but he doesn't, not when Chanyeol's warm hands card through his hair for a second, gentle fingertips anything but threatening. The stay like that for a split second, and it sends chills down Chanyeol's spine, makes Baekhyun shiver a little. 

And then the taller boy doesn't say anything, just waves a hand and beams before he turns around, headed back to his dorm. Baekhyun feels like nothing that just happened was real -- it  _had_  to be fake -- and he makes his way back to his dorm, passing out into a dreamless sleep with Chanyeol's smile on his mind. It's almost wondrous, how he was spared from replaying the incident over and over again, if only for one night.  

On the way home, Chanyeol realizes, somewhat worriedly, that he would've protected Baekhyun even if Jongdae hadn't asked him. He  _wanted_  to protect Baekhyun, wanted to beat that guy up, but he'd held back. Chanyeol doesn't know why he's like this, doesn't know why his chest feels stuffy. He ignores it and keeps on his way back to his dorm, vowing to get over whatever was happening to him by the next skating practice. 


	5. five

Chanyeol has been waiting for fifteen minutes. He's trying not to get fidgety and impatient, but he can't help it -- not when Baekhyun isn't here and his face is still sore and his chest feels tight for no reason. 

**from: ice prince baekhyun**  
_running late! i'll be there in five! get changed into skates and be ready_

That five minutes expired awhile ago, and now the tall boy is anxious over  _where_  Baekhyun is. Did he get in an accident on the way back? Did he suddenly realize he had something more important to do? Did he just want to play some kind of cruel trick on Chanyeol? 

Chanyeol sighs morosely, kicking at the carpeted ground with the toe of his skate. Maybe he should call, just in case? 

And then there's a noise, a breathy sort of groan, from the door, and Baekhyun is there. He's pushing the entrance open with a knee, flowers and stuffed animals piled in his arms.

"Sorry!" he wheezes out. 

Chanyeol is about to say it's okay, but then his eyes catch the black silky fabric that hugs every inch of Baekhyun, sees the small bow tied around his neck, notices the flowing sleeves and tight pants clinging to the shorter boy. Baekhyun's in his _skating costume_ , and Chanyeol is struggling to breathe. 

The tall boy notices with a stuttering heart that Baekhyun's also in full makeup, a shimmery quality across his entire face.

His eyes are sharp and lined, red eyeshadow and glitter making him shine with every blink. Golden cheekbones dip into rose tinted cheeks, a light red settling over the bow of his lips. His black hair is styled, slightly curly, a little crunchy, but suave and elegant and _\--_ Chanyeol feels weird thinking it _\-- hot._  

He looks otherworldly, like some sort of god sent down to earth, ready to command flowers to bloom, to turn the tide of the ocean.

The taller boy doesn't trust himself to say anything intelligent, so he opts to keep quiet and nod in greeting instead. 

"Crazy day," Baekhyun says in a tired voice. "I did a performance for kids who are interested in figure skating at the rec center two towns over. They made me go through it twice -- I'm so tired." 

Chanyeol didn't even know they  _had_  a rec center two towns over, much less an ice rink, but he can only imagine how intimidating and talented Baekhyun would look to a small child. Hell, Chanyeol is twenty-three and he's awestruck just watching Baekhyun stumble his way through the door.

"I guess their instructor thought it'd be cute, so they  _all_  brought me gifts. I couldn't say no, so I just rode the bus in full makeup and costume with --" Baekhyun gestures to the plushes and flowers placed on the bench next to him, "-- at least fifteen pounds of gifts. I bet I looked crazy." 

Chanyeol wants to say that he doubts anyone was worried about his looks, at least not when he looked like  _that_ , but he smiles in a friendly way instead, avoiding thinking about the way his chest is constricting at the moment. 

"Did you wait long?" Baekhyun finally slows down, searching for Chanyeol's eyes through his dark mop of hair.

Baekhyun notices that Chanyeol is avoiding looking directly at him and he frowns, suddenly worried that maybe the reality of being a figure skater is too much for Chanyeol to deal with. And he thought they were getting to be friends, Baekhyun regrets internally. 

"No, not very long!" Chanyeol remedies his actions through enthusiastic words, a natural smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, okay, good," Baekhyun smiles his big smile, dark-lined eyes crinkling in happiness, in a sort of relief he doesn't truly understand.

Chanyeol swallows the lump in his throat, ignores the way his mind can't focus on anything other than the way Baekhyun's slim wrists look in that shirt, at the curve of his hips into a lithe waist. He  _definitely_  isn't ogling the expanse of skin below the loose bow and the start of his silk shirt, the area where his collarbones meet strong muscles. 

Skating practice is especially hard that day, since Chanyeol can't focus and Baekhyun is as touchy as ever, all smiles and enchanting glances.

Chanyeol watches Baekhyun skate out in full costume, chokes for air as he does his exercises and watches Baekhyun stretch again, and openly ignores his instructions in favor of studying the details in Baekhyun's eyes and the slope of his nose. 

Even when Chanyeol finally gets to start learning how to skate backwards and how to stop when he's actually skating fast, his focus isn't there. He knows it's because of the sheen of sweat over Baekhyun's skin and the way his fingers wrap around Chanyeol's to demonstrate everything.

It's a rough practice, Chanyeol thinks, because all he can think of is how elegant Baekhyun is, how much he wants to trace his cheekbones with a finger and trace a hand around the bow on his neck. He's distracted and frustrated ten minutes into practice, to say the least. 

\-- 

"So, you didn't really prove much about Baekhyun being nice," Sehun begins, popping the spoon full of yogurt into his mouth. Chanyeol notices the quirk on his lips, the hidden smile waiting to come out. 

"It was that asshole's fault, and you know it," Chanyeol responds grimly, suddenly annoyed. He doesn't know why this bothers him so much; Sehun should  _like_  Baekhyun, should know the way he makes Chanyeol's stomach churn. "Baekhyun just didn't want to get grabbed by random guys at a party." 

"That's understandable," Yixing says pointedly, glaring at Sehun. Chanyeol feels a gleam of hope in Yixing's answer, knows that at least one person recognizes that Baekhyun isn't some crazy jerk. 

"He likes grabbing  _you_ , though." 

Sehun says it with that wicked smile, as if he'd expected Chanyeol to explain Baekhyun that way. He'd fallen into the trap the younger had set, lead himself down the road of Baekhyun-relationship talks. After their last practice, Chanyeol isn't even sure what's happening with himself and he doesn't want to think about it, much less have a heart to heart about the issue with Sehun and Yixing.

"He doesn't!" Chanyeol sputters out, face suddenly too hot to deal with, cheeks burning with a fiery rage. He thinks of all the times Baekhyun had held his waist, had reached for a hand to drag him along during practice. 

"You said ice skating is touchy," Sehun explains further. "Isn't it weird for you? You're not normally down to spoon people you don't know." 

"Who said anything about  _spooning_?" 

Sehun holds up a finger, prompting him to wait a second, and pulls up pictures on his phone rather quickly. Chanyeol studies each carefully, recognizing a common denominator within a second: Baekhyun. 

In one, Baekhyun has strong arms wrapped around a tiny blonde girl, holding her close on the ice. In another, she's high above him, spinning, and he's proudly waiting to catch her -- Baekhyun looks radiant, Chanyeol notices. These are evidently competition pictures, since the pair is equipped in full costume, crowd-pleasing smiles plastered on both of their faces.

Sehun swipes to the last one, a still of a boy with his hands positioned on Baekhyun's hips, holding the smaller in the air, obviously taken mid-throw during practice. Chanyeol admits that they  _do_  look close, almost intimate, but he doesn't let it bother him, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Where did you find all those pictures of Baekhyun? Creepy." 

Sehun bursts into laughter and shakes his head, turning to gauge Yixing's reaction. 

"Probably Google?" Yixing says in a matter of fact tone, as if it's widely known that it's easy to stalk someone just by googling their name. Chanyeol, in his defense, has never tried it before, so he wouldn't know. 

"I just looked Baekhyun up, and it lists all of his titles and has pictures of him in competition and practicing," Sehun informs the clueless tall boy and Yixing shrugs, obviously pleased with his correct answer.

Chanyeol files that information away for later purposes (not weird ones, he reasons, he just wants to see what Baekhyun's  _other_  competition costumes look like) and nods along, defeated. 

"Okay, okay, it's kind of intimate. But I can't do any of those tricks, I'm never going to hold Baekhyun like that --" 

Sehun and Yixing turn to look him in the eye so quickly that there's a collective  _whoosh_  at the table. Chanyeol is scared; what did he do? 

" _I'm never going to hold Baekhyun like that,"_  Sehun mimics, eyes wide and wide shoulders shaking with excitement. "Why do you sound so  _sad_ , lover boy?" 

"I don't!" Chanyeol's blushing again, he knows it, and he shakes his head violently, trying to dispel thoughts of what Sehun is implying. 

"Yeol, you sounded pitiful. You want to hold him like that, right?" 

Chanyeol ignores Yixing's question, suddenly extremely interested in the painting on the wall behind Sehun's annoying, dumb head. 

"Chanyeol," Sehun's voice comes out as a warning. " _Chanyeol."_

Chanyeol sighs loudly and nods slightly, finally admitting something to himself he hadn't been able to process earlier. He _wants_  to lift Baekhyun and see him in that costume and hold his hand on the ice and maybe go out for dinner after and watch a movie and -- God, he needs to get a grip. He's acutely aware of how loudly his heart is thumping in his chest right now.

"He nodded!" yells out Yixing incredulously. A passerby would've thought they'd just won a gold medal from the way Sehun and Yixing clap their hands together in triumph, making loud screaming noises toward each other in joy. 

"So what? I want to be talented in ice skating. It's not directly about Baekhyun." 

"You said you wanted to hold him," Yixing points out in a matter-of-fact, shit-eating tone. Chanyeol sighs because what else could he do to explain it away? He can't even process why he's like this, he doesn't need his friends turning this on him.  

"So?" Chanyeol tries to get the image of Baekhyun's shimmering eyelids and red lips out of his mind (he fails.)

"That's pretty gay, dude." 

Chanyeol makes firm eye contact with Sehun at the comment, suddenly realizing that maybe the younger boy was right for once. 

\--

It's 8 p.m. and he feels guilty. Baekhyun didn't mean to cancel on Chanyeol last minute -- the pair had decided to meet at 7:30 p.m. this time, since they were both so busy during the day -- but he has a sudden, yet acute, case of stomach flu. He'd texted Chanyeol and sent Jongdae off partying for the night, completely resolved to sleep it all off.

Baekhyun sighs contently and lies back in bed, silently willing his stomach to calm down when he feels his phone vibrating against his side. Sighing, he lifts it to his ear, fully expecting a classmate to be whining about an assignment or their teacher. 

What he gets, though, is a frantic Chanyeol on the other line. 

"Are you okay?" 

Baekhyun almost yelps at the loud, deep voice in his ear, but he composes himself and manages a croaky, "Chanyeol?" 

"Yeah, it's me," Chanyeol sounds rushed and out of breath. "I got your text. You okay?" 

"It's just a stomach bug, I think," Baekhyun tries to explain away the anxiousness in Chanyeol's tone, tries to convince him that he's fine, even though the shorter isn't quite sure why Chanyeol is so distraught in the first place. "I'll be okay tomorrow, I think." 

"I'm outside. Can I come inside?" Baekhyun doesn't even have time to comprehend the question before he hears knocks on the door, loud and definitively Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun ends the call and struggles to his feet, quickly ridding the room of all his trash and dirty clothes.Which is actually quite difficult, since neither he nor Jongdae likes doing laundry, dishes, or vacuuming. They normally bet on who has to do it, but they'd gotten lazy recently and let no one take care of it for a few days. The result? Chaos, utter chaos. And Chanyeol was outside, upset and probably cold from his long walk. This was a nightmare, if Baekhyun had to classify it. 

Fuck, he thinks, this really wasn't supposed to happen. After a solid two minutes of cleaning, he concludes that the room is decent enough and he hobbles to the door to open it, Chanyeol's large eyes studying him from head to toe immediately.

Baekhyun is increasingly aware of how ugly he must look right now, but he tries to ignore the self-doubt creeping up -- self-doubt is his downfall, he reasons, and Chanyeol won't care what he looks like in the end. After all, Chanyeol is an athlete, and he's the coach, so there should be a boundary of judgment that the taller can't cross. 

"Did you throw up?" Chanyeol is inside now and, despite all the dorms being relatively the same size, Baekhyun feels as though he's too large for this small room, filled with posters and pictures and decorative pillows. 

"Uh, yeah," Baekhyun nods, covering his mouth. He brushed his teeth after, but now he's hyper conscious about it. Everything about Chanyeol, from his athlete status to his toothy smile to the way he's just so perfect, intimidates him and makes him question himself. 

"I brought soup, some ginger ale, and a movie," Chanyeol explains, producing a bag full of said items from nowhere. Baekhyun is astounded; he'd texted Chanyeol to cancel practice less than an hour ago, and here he was, ready to nurse his skating teacher back to health. 

"Y-you didn't have to," Baekhyun feels guilty that Chanyeol ran to the other side of the campus because he threw up once. It's not even  _that_  big of a deal, he laments, taking in the sight of Chanyeol in pajamas with messy curls every which way. Despite feeling bad for the trouble he caused, Baekhyun honestly also feels kind of special, a little cared for. 

"I _wanted_  to," Chanyeol corrects, confident now in the reason behind his stomach churning and cheeks burning: he  _likes_  Baekhyun.

He's never liked a boy, never really even entertained the thought of it, but he knows that if the feeling Baekhyun gives him deep in his stomach is something to go off of, he should work his hardest to express his emotions. Chanyeol has always been transparent in his feelings and he doesn't think he can stop now, not with the way Baekhyun makes his entire mood flip, makes his thoughts go wild. He needs to stay close to Baekhyun, even if that's all he can do right now. 

"Oh. You _wanted_ to," Baekhyun responds lamely, cheeks burning scarlet, almost as vibrant as the lip color he'd applied the week before, as red as the roses he'd carried. 

"Here, where should I put the soup?" Chanyeol walks around as if it was his dorm, as if he and Baekhyun have visited countless times before. "Is this table okay?" 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that's fine," Baekhyun answers flippantly, not even bothering to check which table Chanyeol pointed to.

He doesn't even know if he could throw up anymore at this point. The pure shock of this situation is settling his stomach, making his sickness feel like a thing of the past since his mind is so stressed about the lanky boy in his room. 

"I brought my laptop, too. I wasn't sure if yours had a dvd player, so . . ." Chanyeol shrugs, bright smile gleaming like sunshine. Baekhyun nods in thanks and moves to settle on his bed, leaving a Chanyeol-sized spaced next to him and the wall, just in case the tall boy wanted it. 

"I'll eat the soup later," Baekhyun explains, taking a swig out of the bottle of ginger ale. "Thank you so much, Chanyeol. You really didn't have to do this." 

Chanyeol takes the empty seat next to him, shoulders grazing for a split second, and shakes his head again, clearly communicating that this care was completely voluntary. 

"I got an ice skating movie, that way we didn't  _really_  miss practice," Chanyeol's reasoning is off, but Baekhyun thinks the way he says is funny, so he laughs and nods along, ready to watch whatever catastrophe Chanyeol brought along. 

They spend an excruciatingly long 108 minutes watching a movie about a blind figure skater who regains her passion and aims for the Olympics -- something which Baekhyun tears apart, pointing out every flaw in the skating, judging, and acting aspects of the movie. Chanyeol cries at one part, but he masks it with a fit of coughing, though they both know that Chanyeol just wants her to win the goddamn Olympics. 

Baekhyun smiles at him softly, offers a tissue, and from then on they sit in a sort of awkward cuddling position, shoulders completely touching but never moving.

It's a delicate balancing act, since any movement could make it apparent to the pair that they're touching -- something that had been glossed over the entire night -- and both want to avoid that realization at any cost. The fear of pulling away is more than the fear of the main character not getting into the Olympics, of Baekhyun throwing up again, of any negative possibility at the moment.

Chanyeol likes the feeling of Baekhyun against him, even though he's scared he might get sick from the smaller boy, and Baekhyun thinks it's nice to hear the rumble of laughter and thuds of a heartbeat through a different chest than his own. 

It's only after the movie ends that they slowly move towards their respective sides of the bed and reality seems to set in: Chanyeol is in Baekhyun's room at 10 p.m., and they'd just cuddled for almost two hours. 

Chanyeol notices the air change first and, being too scared to screw anything up between them, he feigns a yawn and decides to go home. He doesn't want to do anything to make Baekhyun uncomfortable, doesn't want to scare him or make him think he's violent and vulgar and awful. So, he packs up his laptop and gives sleepy, sick Baekhyun a big smile before he turns off the lights and exits, locking the door behind him. 

Baekhyun feels warm from the inside out, watching the door shut on a familiar head of black hair, and he tries his best to sleep through the stomach pain, ignoring the similar pangs in his heart. 

Chanyeol walks home in the cold, thankful for the bitterness of the weather, since it wakes himself up. As much as he'd wanted to stay and talk to Baekhyun, to thread fingers through his hair and watch another movie and sleep there, he can't bring himself to force anything on the smaller boy.

He'd never been told directly, but he'd noticed Baekhyun's aversion to males and Baekhyun's fear of him that one day in the cafe. He knew that something must've happened in the past in order for Jongdae to seek him out personally to keep the shorter boy safe. He'd pieced it together when he saw Baekhyun freeze at the party, came to the realization that Baekhyun had been hit before, that he wasn't going to fight back, that he'd been conditioned to getting hurt. 

Chanyeol jumped in but couldn't do anything violent, not with Baekhyun shaking like that behind him, not with the new knowledge of what must've happened to him earlier on in his life. Chanyeol can't bring himself to do anything to hurt Baekhyun mentally or physically, and so he jogs his way home, heart flipping at the thought of Baekhyun's soft lips smiling up at him as he'd left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is where it stops for now! I'm currently writing chapter six and have it planned out, I'm just swamped with homework as well. Hopefully it'll be up here and on AFF in the next few days! Comments are greatly appreciated!


	6. six

 

Chanyeol, Baekhyun notes from his corner of the rink, is getting better. He hasn't fallen at all today and his legs haven't been shaking as much -- he's actually  _skating_. 

He's barely breaking three miles per hour, but progress is progress. Baekhyun watches Chanyeol say something to the skater next to him, bright eyes lighting up in conversation, hands animated and throwing off his balance.

It'd been hard to schedule a skating practice that worked for the both of them and so here they were, surrounded by other skaters. Baekhyun recognizes them as his juniors from the skating department, but Chanyeol only seems to recognize them as friends. Baekhyun soon realizes that Chanyeol sees everyone he meets as a friend, which is sort of odd to someone like him, but also very heartwarming. Baekhyun ignores the very real warmth in his heart and cheeks at the sight. 

"Baekhyun!" a familiar voice calls out. Baekhyun turns quickly, searching for the source of the voice, and one face in particular. He finds it and watches Jongin skate over lazily with a soft smile on his tanned face. He notices a shorter man behind his friend, one with cropped hair and amateur movements. It registers in the back of his mind that he's seen him before, but he can't quite place him. 

"Jongin," Baekhyun smiles. He offers a tiny quirk of lips to the shorter boy out of politeness, almost surprised when he receives a awkward smile in return. He can't figure out why, but this boy seems incredibly familiar, and one sweep of Jongin's eyes over the shorter confirms it: it's Kyungsoo. 

Baekhyun had heard of him from Jongin countless times -- they're friends and, Baekhyun suspects, Jongin might harbor something other than friendship towards the shorter boy. One look at Jongin's brown eyes softening toward him and Baekhyun's confirmed his suspicions.

Chanyeol had also brought Kyungsoo up casually. When they're sharing stories while they make their rounds around the rink or walking from psychology, he'd heard stories about Chanyeol's friend group and Kyungsoo was prominently featured. Although, Baekhyun had imagined him very differently. Maybe tall and burly, intimidating. But here he was, short and sort of soft looking with dark eyes and thick eyebrows. He still looks intimidating, but he's also kind of adorable, Baekhyun thinks to himself. Before he can analyze the boy anymore, Jongin's hand on his elbow brings him out of his thoughts. 

"This is Kyungsoo," Jongin says rather proudly, fondly. The shorter boy continues smiling, his cheeks now puffed and pink. 

"I'm Baekhyun," he replies, ignoring the affection oozing out of Jongin's gaze, the way Kyungsoo shifts to avoid it. "You're friends with Chanyeol, right?" 

Baekhyun reflects suddenly, worried. Why had he introduced himself using Chanyeol? Why did he make it seem like he and Chanyeol were a _thing_? It was weird, and he knows it, is positive that Kyungsoo picked up on the wording and is judging him now. 

"Of course he knows me!" a deep voice yells happily, and then Baekhyun feels a heavy hand land on his shoulder. He knows it's Chanyeol, can feel his stance wobbling from the iron grip he has on his shoulder. He almost smiles because the voice, the entrance, the touch, it's all so Chanyeol. It's familiar. 

Kyungsoo lets out a twinkling laugh and his lips form a small heart, obviously delighted to see his teammate. Baekhyun doesn't miss the way Jongin's cheeks twinge pink at the same time, out of shame or happiness, Baekhyun can't tell. Kyungsoo makes eye contact with Chanyeol, something unsaid between them spreading over the thin ice. 

"Are you guys practicing?" Jongin asks, although the answer is obvious. Chanyeol nods yes and skates feebly over to latch onto Kyungsoo instead, leaving Baekhyun's shoulder oddly cold.

"Kyungsoo, how are you so good at this?" Chanyeol's whiny, betraying his height and image. Baekhyun bites his lip to keep from smiling and saying something mean about how it's really not  _that_  hard, the tallest boy is just extremely untalented. 

"It's just like roller skating," Kyungsoo shrugs, and his shoulder hits Jongin's. "That's it." 

"But it makes my feet  _hurt."_

Kyungsoo pushes the tallest boy off of him, huffing, mumbling a quiet, "Doing anything on your feet for a long time makes them hurt."

Chanyeol decides to act as if he's offended, spinning around too suddenly and falling back towards Baekhyun. The shorter boy catches him, arms tight around his waist, and feels suddenly that they're too close, that Chanyeol isn't moving away at all, and that he needs to  _leave_.

He can't be in that proximity with someone, even if it's someone like Chanyeol, who he's come to trust. At least, he can't without feeling like he might pass out, without feeling lightheaded. He doesn't know  _why_  it comes and goes like this, why his mind can't make up its mind if he's okay or not.

He pushes Chanyeol back to his feet, ignoring the flash of surprise in the taller's eyes.

"Jongin, do you want to show off a little?" Baekhyun asks suddenly, nervously, trying to sound confident and put-together despite the sweat collecting on his palms.

Chanyeol has a vague notion of what showing off could entail, but he only focuses on the way Baekhyun's pink lips are shaking a little, the same way they had in the coffee shop the day after they'd met. He feels dread creeping into his stomach, observes as Baekhyun's eyes go somewhere distant and scared. _He'd_ done that, he realizes, he'd made Baekhyun scared.

Jongin notices the change in the air, much like the two football players, and he nods, if only for Baekhyun's sake. The pair skate off together toward the side of the rink, legs extending to take in more ice than Chanyeol could ever dream of. They're gliding together, talking, and they're  _graceful_. Chanyeol watches in awe as they skate circles around each other, some sort of unspoken ice skater language telling them which way to turn, when to make a rotation and land that jump. 

"I saw that," Kyungsoo says softly, eyes transfixed on Jongin's movements. Chanyeol knows it isn't about the way Jongin had landed. "What  _was_  that?"

"You said it before, he doesn't like to be touched," Chanyeol answers morosely, mind preoccupied over the fearful face Baekhyun had made at him when they were only inches away. 

"But he didn't get mad?" Kyungsoo muses, eyes trailing after the pair of boys across the rink. Chanyeol sucks in a deep breath when Baekhyun smiles at something Jongin says, lifting his leg in a joking manner. "I thought he'd get mad if you touched him. Like the party." 

"No, he didn't get mad," Chanyeol shakes his head. He knows that Baekhyun was more terrified than angry at the party, knows that it's the same way today. Kyungsoo doesn't realize that Baekhyun's issue isn't being touched in general, it's being close to people like him.

He's seen Baekhyun allow Jongdae and Jongin to touch him without thinking twice. The hesitation with Chanyeol was present because he's similar to whoever hurt him in the past. The night that Baekhyun had been sick and let Chanyeol share his warmth, let their shoulders fit together naturally, it had been in a moment of weakness for the shorter boy, he knows.

He tries to avoid thinking about it, but deep down he knows that the chances of Baekhyun getting comfortable around him, of liking him back, are slim to none. Maybe that's what makes Chanyeol's heart burn, what makes him keep his mouth shut to Kyungsoo. He can't admit it to himself, much less explain it all. 

"You got so quiet last time," Kyungsoo says it softly, and when Chanyeol looks to him, he's twiddling with his fingers. "When Sehun pointed out that you might like Baekhyun. You know, he said you're gay, and you got quiet and left." 

Chanyeol hears the unspoken  _Are you?_  in the air, understands that Kyungsoo is trying to let him vent if he needs to. 

"Not sure," Chanyeol shrugs because, really, he hasn't done much thinking past the short skater in his life. "I like Baekhyun, though." 

Kyungsoo looks up, shocked at Chanyeol's bluntness, and he's smiling. "Really? We figured that out after your first practice with him, but I'm glad you know it." 

Chanyeol laughs momentarily before he realizes that his teammate's _not_  joking. He's about to ask more questions, but then Baekhyun and Jongin are on their way back, a thin sheen of sweat on their foreheads. Chanyeol smiles involuntarily at Baekhyun and gets a bright one back, completely uninhibited. The taller boy realizes that the skating calmed Baekhyun down and he sighs with relief. 

He feels a sudden, strong pride for the amount of effort Baekhyun puts into his art, to the way his legs curve on every inch of ice in the rink. He's a master because it's his distraction; Baekhyun loves skating as much as he loves surviving. Chanyeol is in awe of him, lump in his throat and thumping in his heart constant.

"I'll leave with Jongin," Kyungsoo whispers, lips upturning at the corners. "You go out there and hold hands and fall in love or whatever you're trying to do." 

Chanyeol stares at him, cheeks turning rosy red, unable to process that Kyungsoo and Sehun had figured it out before him, had been teasing him because they  _knew_. He's not sure how, but it seems like Jongin gets the message, because he's immediately at Kyungsoo's side, leading the way towards the exit, waving a soft good bye to a confused Baekhyun. 

The shorter boy turns to look at Chanyeol accusingly, as if he'd run Kyungsoo and Jongin off, but his stern look crumples with one smile grin from Chanyeol. He rolls his eyes to keep from smiling back, making a vague  _come here_  gesture, determined to teach Chanyeol how to skate faster with better balance. 

\--

It's night this time. Schedules are hectic, the both of them know this, and so they end up running to the rink to slip in a few minutes of practice here and there. Sometimes Chanyeol brings drinks, and sometimes Baekhyun shows up with food -- food that he'd happened to already been buying when Chanyeol texted, he constantly explains.

It turns into something different, something sweet. It's sitting on the floor by the rink and sharing food, telling stories about class, ignoring that Chanyeol is getting no skating done, that they have papers due in two days. It's almost like a date, if Chanyeol could bring himself to verbalize it, but he doesn't -- instead he watches the way Baekhyun's eyes light up when he brings different foods, storing the boy's favorites away deep in his memory.

It's dark and cold outside, wind howling at the doors, and Baekhyun had  _accidentally_  bought an extra hot chocolate on his way to practice. Chanyeol thanks him with a kind smile and scrunched nose, reaching out a careful hand to brush a leaf out of Baekhyun's hair. He doesn't flinch when Chanyeol's hand touches him but his eyes widen considerably, pink dancing across his cheeks. 

"How are your classes going?" Baekhyun asks after he takes a sip. Chanyeol studies the way his fingers wrap tighter around the cup and he licks his lips, noting that Baekhyun likes hazelnut.

"I'm passing them," Chanyeol answers honestly, voice tired. He's exhausted and he needs to go to bed, but he didn't want to miss practice, didn't want to miss seeing Baekhyun wear his oversized hoodies and glow on the ice.

Baekhyun registers Chanyeol's fatigue and offers a kind smile with even kinder eyes. They're always brown, but now they're sparkling, and Chanyeol feels his breathing stop for a minute. 

It's silent for a little while, the only soundtrack being an occasional sip and steady breathing, but Baekhyun doesn't mind. He likes that Chanyeol is so friendly and kind, so accomodating. He doesn't have to worry about making small talk because Chanyeol can go without it or make the conversation himself and be fine; it's comfortable, sitting on the floor and drinking hot chocolate, feeling the heat from the taller boy from a foot away. 

When their cups are empty, they look up at each other, unspoken words forming commands and replies, familiar enough to understand the routine.

They get up wordlessly then, headed toward the ice. Chanyeol knows the drill; Baekhyun stretches, skates his routine, stretches again, and then he comes to help Chanyeol with that day's -- or night's, in this case -- lesson. 

He doesn't know if it's the way Baekhyun's eyes had looked before or the residual sleepiness of the day, but something is throwing him off. He keeps slipping, keeps falling straight on his ass. And while this would've been a great achievement during their first practice, Chanyeol is angry at himself. He's so out of it, it's infuriating, and he's being like this in front of Baekhyun, the one person he thinks it'd be amazing to look cool in front of.  

His troubles don't go unnoticed by the shorter boy. He watches the way Chanyeol keeps getting unfocused and moving his arms too much, letting himself tumble when he could usually recover. He glides over softly, silently, and puts a cold hand around Chanyeol's, letting their fingers rest peacefully the other's. 

"What's wrong?" Baekhyun questions gently, pulling the taller boy along the ice as slowly as possible. Chanyeol's eyes are tired and sleepy and cute, Baekhyun notices, but then he puts that in the back of his mind, focusing on Chanyeol's pulse through his fingers. 

"It's nothing," Chanyeol shakes his head, forcing himself to wake up. "I'm just sleepy." 

Baekhyun doesn't know how much more of groggy, soft-voiced Chanyeol he can stand -- it's doing things to his stomach, to his heart, that he can't explain away -- and so he moves Chanyeol's hand to wrap around his shoulder, guides the taller into holding him. He's tucked under Chanyeol's arm now, breaths fanning out over Chanyeol's collarbones. 

"Here," Baekhyun whispers, since they're so close and it feels wrong to speak loudly; he doesn't want to disrupt this kind of tranquil proximity. "Put your other arm around me." 

Chanyeol feels his cheeks and ears heat up, knows that his heart is pounding at an unhealthy pace. He can't stop thinking of the day when he'd gotten too close to Baekhyun, frightened him. He likes the way that they are now, almost touching, close enough to brush against each other. He especially likes that Baekhyun initated it, that Baekhyun is comfortable, is warm against him. All he can think about is the sparkle in his eye, the mole above his lip, the curve of his nose. 

He wraps an arm around Baekhyun like he was told to do, completely encompassing the boy's body, holding him into his chest. He feels Baekhyun wind his arms around his waist, head settling to rest against his chest for a few seconds. It's surreal; Chanyeol must've fallen asleep, must be dreaming. 

"Hold on," Baekhyun instructs, arms tightening. "And don't move your feet too much." 

Then Baekhyun's legs are moving, spreading, and fanning out behind him, propelling the pair into a slow spin, like couples twirling in a ballroom. He does it again so that they're truly spinning in a tiny circle now, breath coming out in heated puffs against Chanyeol's neck. 

Before Chanyeol can process what  _that_  felt like, Baekhyun's arms are gone and he's being pushed away, little by little. He's still spinning slowly, now on his own, and Baekhyun is smiling at him like he hung the stars. 

"Look, you did a spin," Baekhyun compliments, as if he hadn't orchestrated the entire thing. Chanyeol lets out a bittersweet smile as he feels himself slowing down to a stop. He wants to do it again, wants to feel like he's holding someone precious close to him at a royal ball, like he has a crown jewel tucked in his arms. 

"I can't do it on my own," Chanyeol points out, leaving his true meaning unspoken. He sees the hesitance in Baekhyun's eyes, watches something flicker in them, before Baekhyun is back in his arms, this time naturally. It's startling, how easy they fit together, Baekhyun notices with a tinge of worry. Chanyeol isn't sleepy anymore; he doesn't think he'll ever sleep again.

"Okay, one more time," Baekhyun sighs against his chest, and then they're spinning slowly around again. Chanyeol can almost imagine the slow waltz in the back ground, Baekhyun's soft hair tickling his chin, the sound of his name coming from Baekhyun's soft lips, the feeling of his soft hands against his.

When Baekhyun moves to pull away, Chanyeol's feet get in the way, and it sends the shorter boy tumbling down onto Chanyeol. It happens too quickly for Baekhyun to steady himself, and he braces for the impact of cold ice on his hands and knees, but it never comes. Instead, he only feels the same warm chest, the same breathing against his cheek.  _Oh._

It hurts. Chanyeol's back hits the ice and but he keeps his head up, arms around Baekhyun keeping him unharmed. Baekhyun lifts his head off of Chanyeol's chest carefully, frantically checking the taller for injuries, eyes panicked. When he meets Chanyeol's gaze, he's relieved to find that the taller is unharmed and smiling ever so slightly.

"What's so funny?" Baekhyun asks suspiciously. He's slightly worried that maybe Chanyeol's sudden laughter is due to a traumatic head injury, but when he lifts his chin to check the ice for blood once again and finds nothing, he refocuses on Chanyeol laying under him. 

"Sorry," Chanyeol responds, cheeks flushed. He laughs out loud, embarrassed for causing the accident, but most of all, embarrassed that Baekhyun is still laying on top of him. "Didn't mean to take the whole team down." 

Baekhyun watches Chanyeol's lips quirk up in their signature smile, in the one that Baekhyun had grown so accustomed to. He suddenly notices that Chanyeol is looking at him too, that they're laying on the ice, that Chanyeol's cheeks and lips are so pink right now.

He thinks that maybe he shouldn't do this, but then he looks into Chanyeol's eyes again, feels the warm hands softly holding his waist, and he's leaning down. 

Lips touch lips softly, Baekhyun placing a gentle kiss against the bow of Chanyeol's lips, right where his smile had been moments before. He notices that Chanyeol's lips are smooth and warm, that he can feel Chanyeol's heartbeat thundering against his own. And then he realizes what he's just done and he's back standing up, focused on anything except the way Chanyeol's eyes are fixated on him, on the way his lips are tingling in a way that screams  _do it again_. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I finally got it together and wrote a little something? 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, please comment/give kudos/whatever you want! I just love feedback and talking to you guys and hearing what you're thinking. Thanks again for reading, goodnight!


	7. seven

Baekhyun begins to refer to it as "the incident," at least in his mind. It's not like he  _meant_  to lean down and kiss Chanyeol, but he had this sudden, strong urge to taste the taller's lips. Maybe it had been how cute he'd looked stumbling around on his skates, sleepiness evident, small pout jutting out. 

He hadn't thought before he'd done it, but he can't say that he regrets it. He can't deny the tightness in his chest when he thinks about Chanyeol, can't think away the heat in his cheeks when they're together, but he tries his best to avoid contemplating the reasons. He has a lot on his plate, with finals and a competition coming up, so he refocuses from the leap his heart does when Chanyeol comes to mind. 

It'd been weird, the first day after they'd kissed. Baekhyun panicked and tried to avoid making eye contact in psychology, but Chanyeol seemed friendlier than ever, eyes never straying from his face, as if to prove a point. It got better as time went on and Baekhyun ignored it -- Chanyeol's eyes only wondered to him for lingering moments, and Baekhyun learned to control the thrum of his heart at Chanyeol's intense gaze. 

 **from: chanyeol**  
_Why do we not have practice tomorrow? I'm getting better, promise!_  

Baekhyun wants to laugh at the amount of heart emojis in the next text, but it leaves a warm feeling floating in his stomach that sort of scares him, so he doesn't. Instead, he ignores the heart message and responds only to Chanyeol's question. 

 **to: chanyeol**  
_i have a competition tmr. ill be gone all day_

It's not like he's trying to avoid Chanyeol -- he does have a competition, and he will get back early in the morning, with barely enough time to sleep before he's off to class. There's no way to squeeze in a practice with the taller boy. 

Jongdae lets out a choked laugh from his side of the room, and Baekhyun turns in time to see him rolling his eyes. 

"What?" Baekhyun asks, somehow feeling as if this laugh was  _at_  him. Jongdae's widening eyes and shaking head confirms this fact, and Baekhyun's on his feet in an instant. "What's so funny, Jongdae?" 

"Nothing!" he giggles out. Jongdae turns his entire body away from Baekhyun, laying on top of his phone to conceal it, and makes a screeching noise everytime Baekhyun tries to get closer to him. With Jongdae's shrill voice ringing through his ears, he gives up, slightly disheartened at the behavior from his roommate. It vanishes, however, when he sees his phone light up with a flash. 

 **from: chanyeol**  
_Oh? Competition? Are you wearing that black silk outfit? And the red eyeshadow?_

 **from: chanyeol**  
_(If you are, you'll win. You look good in that. And you're the best skater.)_

Baekhyun feels his cheeks heat up at the compliment, bursting red again with the next round of heart emoji texts. Why was he  _like_  this? He can feel Jongdae's gaze turn to him, observing the blush rising up his neck and cheek. He's embarrassed that his roommate has more fodder to make fun of him for, but he can't bring himself to will the smile away. Maybe he likes the way Chanyeol acts, even if it's just a little.

\-- 

"Are you all ready?" the voice booms out throughout the dorm. It startles the boys for a second, but then they recognize it as their captain's voice, and suddenly their fears dissapate. There's nothing to be scared of, no matter how loud his voice is -- Chanyeol isn't very terrifying. 

"Yes, Chanyeol," an exasperated Sehun answers sleepily, gesturing to his outfit and backbag. "I'm completely ready to suffer on a road trip with you. For  _no reason_." 

This earns the boy a smack on the head from the captain, as if he's feigning anger. 

"It's not for  _nothing_ ," Chanyeol points out. "We're going to watch Baekhyun."

Sehun's thick eyebrows raise in a question, asking Chanyeol something silently. The pair's eyes flicker over to Kyungsoo's sleepy form, currently perched on the edge of his bed, completely out of it. 

"And Jongin," Chanyeol confirms in a hushed whisper. Sehun's eyebrows twist and he nods coolly. 

"Okay, let's go. We have a lot to do." 

The three boys make it outside in a few minutes, eyes puffy and hair mussed up. Even though it's barely daybreak and he wants to go back to sleep, the thought of shining eyes with red eyeshadow, of a shimmering smile, of silky fabric and graceful steps, it keeps him moving.

\--

Baekhyun yawns as the early morning wind whips into his face, turning his nose cold and cheeks peachy. It's early, and he feels bad that Jongdae is awake with him, but he's eternally grateful that he has someone in the audience cheering him on. 

"Dae, are you sure you don't want to come on the team bus with us? The other skaters don't care. They all know you." 

Jongdae smiles his signature smile, hand ruffling Baekhyun's hair softly like he always does. He seems oddly fond today, as if he's more excited for Baekhyun's competition than Baekhyun himself. 

"No, I have a ride, I'm fine," Jongdae convinces. Baekhyun narrows his eyes at the tone he uses, at the implication that he's going with someone else to the competition. "Trust me, you'll see!" 

It's probably his mom, he reasons, and so he nods, allowing Jongdae to think he's being sneaky.

"Okay, fine," Baekhyun agrees, although he already knows what Jongdae has planned. "Be safe. I'm going!" 

He climbs up the stairs to the bus, finds a seat across from Jongin, and leans to stare out of the window. His performance music is blasting in his ears through headphones, and in his mind he leaps to all of the familiar dips in notes, to the melody. The sun is coming up now, in hues of red and purple, vibrant and abstract as if paint had spilled across the canvas of the sky that morning. It's a good sign, he hopes.

He's nervous about the competition today, especially since he's been using some of his practice time to hang out with Chanyeol, to teach the taller boy the basics. It probably wasn't the best strategy to distract himself in the months before a large competition, but it's fine, he reasons, he'll at least make it in the bottom tier of the top contenders. 

The song restarts and he checks his phone, only seeing an unread text from the night before, courtesy of Chanyeol, filled with at least eighteen heart emojis. It's excessive, and Baekhyun hates the way the hearts feel real when he thinks about Chanyeol. It's fine, he decides, he'll deal with everything after the competition.

He closes his eyes with the text fresh on his mind, determined to sleep on the bus and place at the competition. 

\--

Luckily, Sehun has a car. If not, they would've all had to take the bus to the venue two hours away. But instead, they're all piled into Sehun's "baby," as he called it, though they all know that technically it belongs to Sehun's mom and that she only lets him drive it three times a year. It's fine, though, because Sehun is a good driver and Jongdae is a better DJ. 

Jongdae and Sehun make quick friends, since they're both loud and fond of embarrassing Chanyeol. Chanyeol hates the way they whisper about him, hates the way he can hear Baekhyun's name get thrown in, but he decides to be the bigger person. Today is about supporting Baekhyun, thanking him for everythig he's done, and he's not going to let the front-seat duo distract him at all. 

Kyungsoo falls asleep almost immediately, despite Jongdae's loud laughter and playlist. It's only halfway through Loonatic (Jongdae's favorite b-side loona track, as he'd explained before -- Sehun was interested, and they promised to plan a viewing party to teach Sehun more about the girls) that Sehun finally talks directly to Chanyeol. 

"What did you put in the trunk? I saw a shit ton of stuff back there," his voice is only slightly judgemental, mostly curious. "Are you moving into the arena?" 

Chanyeol blushes slightly, proud of what's sitting in the trunk. He'd spent an hour and a half on it last night after recieving Baekhyun's text about the competition.

He'd texted Jongdae immediately, asking where the competition was, asking if the shorter was going, asking if Baekhyun would kill him or swoon if he went, too.

Jongdae's immediate answer was swoon, and so here he was. 

"No -- it's for when Baekhyun is skating," Jongdae whips around, too, curious. "I made a sign."

Jongdae guffaws, which makes Kyungsoo grumble and turn to lean against the window in his sleep. Sehun makes some sort of high pitched noise that can only be described as excited, and Chanyeol blushes deep at the thought of Baekhyun finding it lame. 

"What does it say?" 

"It's lame. You'll make fun of me." 

Sehun nods because, yeah, he probably will, but then he makes eye contact with Chanyeol in the rear-view mirror.

"Tell us." 

"No," Chanyeol whines, shaking his head.

Jongdae mimics his whine and shakes his whole body, as if he's protesting, ending in a fit of giggles. This sends Sehun into shrieks of laughter, too, and he shakes behind the wheel while mocking Chanyeol. The whole car is moving at this point, the two boys in the front practically screaming over the already-loud music. 

"Just tell us, Chanyeol!" Jongdae whines, voice high pitched and nasally, much too grating for early morning car rides. 

"No, I --" 

Kyungsoo makes an exasperated noise, shifting back to glare at the other three boys. 

"I'm  _tired_ , guys." 

This only makes Sehun laugh more, though Jongdae looks a bit remorseful since he barely knows the shorter boy. Chanyeol pouts at his teammate, hoping to prove his innocence in the screaming match, but it's to no avail -- he only gets a glare back. 

"We'll be quiet," Jongdae promises, dropping the sign's contents from the conversation and turning Haseul's voice down a minuscule amount. Kyungsoo sighs, satisfied, and is asleep on the window in a second, obviously exhausted. Chanyeol can't remember the last time Kyungsoo was this tired, but he doesn't push it, doesn't ask Sehun when his roommate came home last night, or what he'd been doing. 

Once Kyungsoo is fully asleep, Jongdae breathes a sigh of relief, obviously feeling guilty, but Sehun waves it off with a hand, smiling in his reassuring way.

"He's just being grumpy because he needs his beauty sleep to look good in front of Jongin, don't sweat it." 

\--

The rink is full -- everywhere Baekhyun looks there are people warming up, stretching, doing their makeup. Being here makes him nervous, if only because he knows that all of his juniors and friends are looking up to him to lead the way. He'd always excelled, always trained harder than others, and he was known in the competition scene for being graceful. But this is his last year in college, this was the last time he'd compete and have a group of people watching him. This is the last time to make his friends and coach proud. 

He watches Jongin practice his routine -- Jongin in all his tall, tan, charming glory. Jongin looks confident and at ease when he's on ice, like he was born to be gliding across, like the smiles he throws are completely natural. He's in all white, a stark contrast with his golden skin and dark hair.

He's pretty, Baekhyun knows, in a different way than Baekhyun is. When Baekhyun is on the ice, he's fierce, with sharp angles and calculated movements. He skates like it's all he knows how to do, like everything in the world depends on how he presents himself across the ice. They're visually striking when they're together, although Baekhyun sometimes wishes he struck people in the way Jongin does. 

But it's not about Jongin or his dramatic arabesque music -- today is about Baekhyun, about his light, airy Debussy piece. About the way his lined eyes and black silk cut across the soft piano, the way he becomes one with the gentle flow of the music, with the beat of his heart, with the melody.

He contrasts to Jongin in a way that makes him seem cold, but he contrasts with the music as if he's blooming on ice, as if he's never felt joy before this very moment. That's what he's here to do, and he's going to do it perfectly, he decides.

When his name is called, he takes one last deep breath and skates out, a haughty look in his eye. He needs to look arrogant -- and he does. He looks up at the crowd, spares a glance to the judges, and then the music starts. It's gentle, lilting, and he's off. He skates across the ice, focused on maintaining the look of arrogance and landing each one of his steps. 

He feels light as air as the music picks up, as his legs twist around each other, as he's pulled into a spin. He's turning quickly, naturally, with one arm up. It looks as though there's a phantom holding him close, as if he's dancing with an unseen partner. The music slows into something softer again, and it finally hits the point where Baekhyun can allow his face to match the song: rêverie. 

His face drops into relaxation, into bliss, into a daydream -- he's not on the ice, he's in a wonderland filled with warmth and sunshine. A world where the silk of his shirt is reflected in dew drops, where the red lining his eyes matches the flowers, the sky.

He's in a state of peace, his body motions fluid and soft, gentle as the touch of Chanyeol's lips to his, burning as the eyes he feels watching him from the crowd, fluid as his skates skidding over the ice as he lines up for a jump. 

He sticks the landing, though he doesn't recognize it at the time. He knows he's done well, knows that he needs to make it through the last section of the song, needs to show himself falling into peace, into sleep -- and so he does.

With gliding ankles and well-timed steps, he's across the rink, smiling brightly at the judges, extending arms fully to showcase how beautiful his fingers look when they're angled like they should be. He feels powerful, in his element -- there is no fear on the ice, just movement. 

The chords grow peaceful and soft, just like Baekhyun had anticipated, had known, and he allows himself to float back towards the center of the ice, as if the wind blew him there in a summer haze. The red on his eyes is smudged because he thinks he might be crying, but it's fine, he's done it. He's spinning in tight circles once again, this time with arms around himself -- he doesn't need a phantom partner, he's fully immersed in the dream; he is the dancer. 

Then the music drops into nothing, and he allows himself to stop, to do his final pose: a look of joy, wonder, of pride. And then it's all over. He hears clapping, is deafened by the sound of his own breathing, can feel tears dripping down, bringing little red droplets with them. He's  _done_  it.

He takes his bows, smiles at the judges once more, takes a second to wipe away the scarlet tears pooling in his eyes. Then he's gliding off the rink, just as quickly as he'd come on, as if it'd only been seconds since he began his routine. Jongin is smiling and jumping when he makes his way to his team, obviously elated that Baekhyun had pulled off the jump, had done well. 

Baekhyun smiles and then starts crying more because, fuck, he's so  _happy_. And then he notices that Jongin is also pointing somewhere to the right, in the crowd, and Baekhyun's heart leaps at the thought of Jongdae and his mother sitting there. He turns around immediately, searching for familiar faces, and his heart tumbles all the way into his stomach when he sees the group of boys shouting twenty feet away.

It's Chanyeol and Jongdae and Kyungsoo and Sehun, but Baekhyun mostly just focuses on Chanyeol because  _what the hell_. 

He's holding a large sign that reads: _"You skated into my heart, Baekhyun!"_ complete with poorly drawn hearts, flowers, and a cartoon version of Baekhyun.

It's almost laughable, but Baekhyun wants to cry again when he thinks about how much effort Chanyeol put into this, how they traveled to watch him. He covers his face in shock, blinking away more tears, too embarrassed to look back up right now. 

"Baek," Jongin's voice rings out, closer than before. "Chanyeol just yelled that you should check your phone." 

Baekhyun looks up again, cheeks fully red, heart jumping, eyes brimming with tears, and laughs out loud when Chanyeol waves cutely to him, suddenly embarrassed, too. 

"Thanks," Baekhyun yells to the group of boys, although his eyes focus on one in particular. He thinks he likes the way Chanyeol smiles at him like that, likes the implication of skating into someone's heart.

He receives a jumbled mess of yelling back, all excited at Baekhyun's performance and subsequent blushing. He hurries over to sit with the rest of the kids from his school, to nod at his coach and get a pat on the back. He did well, he's sure, and he can't stop thinking about how happiness feels when it bubbles up in his chest, how it feels to be jittery when someone looks at you. It's thrilling. 

When they announce that Baekhyun is now in first place, he sobs again, this time onto Jongin's jacketed shoulder, only stopping to gasp in a few breaths and whip around to make teary eye contact with a yelling Chanyeol. He screams something that Baekhyun can't make out, but Baekhyun thinks he understands the gist of it, and he nods excitedly, cheering for himself. 

When his excitement dies down and his heart is only thumping a thousand miles per minute, he gathers the courage to check his phone, seeing a notification for eight pictures from Chanyeol. His hands shake as he opens it, giggling out loud when he sees a selfie of Chanyeol holding the sign proudly in the parking lot. The next is of Kyungsoo and Sehun glaring at each other, obviously arguing over something, while standing in front of a concession stand. In the next, Jongdae has his mouth opened so wide that Baekhyun recognizes it as his laugh, but to most it would look as though he's in pain.

Four more are pictures of Baekhyun on the ice with varying amounts of zoom being used. Baekhyun looks tiny and grainy and blurry, but when he glances up at Chanyeol and sees how shaky his hands are, he understands. The last is in the arena, a selfie of Chanyeol just smiling -- something has changed, though, and Chanyeol is sporting (very badly done) red eyeshadow, as if to match Baekhyun. 

He snorts out a laugh through a few tears, feeling his pulse speed up and cheeks turn pink once again, too overwhelmed by his success and the way Chanyeol's red tinted eyes crinkle when he smiles. 

\--

It's pitch black and cold by the time they leave the arena. The team bus is waiting, and it seems tempting, but then Baekhyun sees the group of boys running toward him, and his resolve flies out of the window. Sure, he'd ended up winning second place in the men's singles, but he didn't  _have_  to ride the bus back -- he has his best friend and his (god? what could he call him?) Chanyeol there, waiting for him, with a working car. There's no need, he decides, to go anywhere but with them. 

He bows to his coach, who nods in an understanding way, giving him one last, "Good job, Baekhyun," and a clap on the back. Then he's scurrying off to meet his friends -- do Sehun and Kyungsoo count? he wonders -- and jumping happily into Jongdae's outstretched arms. His best friend starts pinching him and placing sloppy kisses on the top of his head immediately, squeezing him so tight that he thinks he might explode. But, hey, that's just how Jongdae is, he reasons. 

"Our second place king!" Jongdae yells into his ear, making Baekhyun yelp out in feigned pain. "You invented ice skating!" 

Baekhyun laughs him off, shaking his shoulders until his best friend unlatches himself. He turns away from him, toward the other three boys, and comes face to face with a smiling, fond Chanyeol. His cheeks seem chubbier today, as if he'd smiled so much that they'd plumped up, and Baekhyun resists the urge to pinch them. 

"Congratulations, Baekhyun," he says it softly and sincerely, in a way that only Chanyeol would, with kind red-lined eyes. 

"Thanks," he manages back, pink creeping up his neck once again. Chanyeol has that effect on him, whether he likes it or not.

Baekhyun looks away in order to not end up looking like a tomato, noticing that Jongin has joined the group, smiling widely down at Kyungsoo. He'd gotten fifth, and Baekhyun had never seen his eyes glow like that when he looked at the crowd, not even the time he'd gotten first. 

He's about to point it out to Jongdae, but then Sehun speaks up.

"Let's go eat. I googled it, and there's a diner nearby," he gestures down to his stomach, as if to indicate that it's empty. "We need nourishment for the ride home." 

Everyone agrees easily and starts to squeeze into the car. There's an issue, though, because it's one seat short. Jongdae and Sehun are still in the front seat, but the three seats in the back are left for the four others. Jongin, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo slide in first, leaving Baekhyun standing outside of the door, feeling like an idiot. 

"Just double buckle, guys," Jongdae says, exasperated. "I'm hungry. Get a move on."

Baekhyun shoots a glare at his best friend but nods anyway, moving to sit on Jongin's lap. Jongin makes a noise of protest, though, and Baekhyun can feel both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo's eyes boring into his head, and so he closes his eyes and moves to sit on Chanyeol's. It's awkward, and he knows it, but Chanyeol doesn't seem to mind. He puts his arm comfortably around Baekhyun's hip to rest, humming along to the song Jongdae plays, ignoring the burning blush making its way over Baekhyun's entire face. 

When they finally step out of the car, Baekhyun is completely grateful, legs wobbly for a different reason than being exhausted from skating. Not that he'd admit it to Jongdae and Sehun's smug faces, though. 

They get seated quickly since they're one of the only groups of people looking for food this late, and Baekhyun watches from across the table as Chanyeol reads the menu, pursing his lips and furrowing thick eyebrows in a way that makes his stomach flip. He'd been telling himself to deal with feelings  _after_  the competition and, hell, that was right now. Time to deal, he supposes. 

"What are you guys getting?" Kyungsoo asks doubtfully, and Baekhyun watches Jongin's eyes flick up instantly. Even though Baekhyun isn't sure what he's feeling when he sees Chanyeol, he's positive he knows what Jongin is feeling when he looks at Kyungsoo. It's so obvious that even _Kyungsoo_  should be able to figure out exactly what's on the boy's mind. 

When their order arrives, it's almost shocking. There's so much  _food_ , although it's too be expected when six college boys are together. Baekhyun takes a sip of his strawberry milkshake -- it's divine -- and his eyes widen. Chanyeol seems to notice, raising an eyebrow as he takes a large bite of his burger. 

"Good?" Chanyeol asks sweetly, as if he's happy that Baekhyun is enjoying it, as if Baekhyun's food matters more than what he's stuffing in his mouth right now. 

"Delicious," the shorter responds, smiling back. He pushes the shake toward Chanyeol, offering it, and smiles when Chanyeol use the same straw to test it. It feels like something special, like something secret, although he knows it isn't. Chanyeol nods his approval, light pink dusting his cheeks and ears, pushing it slowly back toward Baekhyun.

Baekhyun watches his eyes go downcast, obviously embarrassed, obviously thinking of everything that had happened today. Baekhyun thinks back to the pun on the poster claiming that he'd skated into Chanyeol's heart, that he liked him. Maybe it was a joke, Baekhyun wonders, but then he makes eye contact with Chanyeol once again, a stuttering, burger-choking mess of a man, and he's reassured. 

He lets his foot sneak across under the table, resting on top of Chanyeol's softly. The taller doesn't look up, but Baekhyun feels Chanyeol move his feet slightly so that their legs are tangled together.

Are they  _flirting_? Baekhyun panics. He's pretty sure they are, but he can't find it in himself to care when Chanyeol smiles at him and takes another drink of the shake, fondness reflected in the neon lights of their diner booth. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAA guys sorry i was gone so long. this chapter is the longest yet so....that makes up for it? haha 
> 
> i hope you liked!!!!!!!!! how are you guys feeling about the developments? feedback is always appreciated! bye bye! 


	8. eight

Things change. 

Chanyeol doesn't know how, or why, but they do.

Baekhyun looks at him differently, in a way that gives him a spark of hope, in a way that leaves his heart jumping into his throat. Maybe he's stupid and foolish and blind, or maybe he just _wants_  to think that Baekhyun is looking at him in a new light, but he lets himself hope, lets his eyes linger on Baekhyun's soft features and tiny smiles. 

"Chanyeol, are you off to see your boyfriend? Going to go cuddle?" Sehun asks teasingly (as if Sehun doesn't have _at least_ three guys he makes out with during every party, Chanyeol grumbles to himself). "Going to kiss your  _boyfr_  --" 

"That's the plan," he says it jokingly, but they both recognize the somewhat serious undertones in Chanyeol's deep voice. Kyungsoo says nothing from his huddled position in the corner of the room, but his thick eyebrows raise in an amused way, arching like the curve of his bowed lips. 

" _Oh._ Oh!" Sehun's smiling then, bright and uninhibited, obviously delighted at Chanyeol's bluntness.

Chanyeol ignores the blush that's steadily creeping its way up his neck and leaves their dorm, hoping that the cold wind will drown out the blood rushing to ears. Here goes nothing.

\-- 

Sifting through piles of paperwork, he finally finds the section he'd highlighted earlier, and begins the work of citing the statistic in his paper. His back hurts and his neck creaks a little when he moves it, but it's fine.

It's all because he'd been sensible and decided to major in business with a minor in international relations, for when skating is no longer a viable option. As much as he enjoys it, Baekhyun knows that his knees will probably give out sometime before he's 35, so it's best to have a skillset that's not based on ice. And now he's stuck writing reports and essays, slaving over economic charts and memorizing vocabulary.

He feels a hard kick to his side and he yelps, turning to face the culprit: Jongdae. He only sees a huddle of a boy clutching his leg, pout on his face, though. His roommate seems to be in extreme pain from the collision with Baekhyun's small frame -- but it's no guarantee whether Jongdae is in genuine discomfort or if he's just being dramatic.

"Fuck! Baek, why are you on the  _floor_  again?" 

Okay, the pain seems real, Baekhyun notes. 

"I'm sitting on the floor because your little coffee table thing is the perfect height to work at," Baekhyun sighs. He puts his head down on the table, demonstrating his appreciation for the object, apparently. "Also, I kept falling asleep in my bed. And at the desk." 

Jongdae releases his leg and walks past, shaking his head. It's obvious that he disapproves, but Baekhyun ignores him, thinking about how he's going to transition between two arguments in a few short paragraphs. 

"The paper is due  _next week_ , Baek. You have time to, you know, sleep. You barely got three hours of sleep last night -- I can confirm this, since your tossing and turning kept me awake, too. Just sleep, you dumb little perfectionist." 

Baekhyun frowns at that. Sure, the paper is due in a week, but Chanyeol also has his hockey match that same week, and Baekhyun has a new routine to memorize for his next competition -- which means that he has to practice with both Chanyeol and by himself -- leaving him little to no time to write stupid economic papers. 

Not that Chanyeol  _had_  to be factored into his plans, but he couldn't just ignore the match altogether, not after all the time in the rink with Chanyeol. Not with how loud Chanyeol had cheered at his competition, how soft his eyes had looked that night in the diner, how comfortable his shoulder was to lean on during the ride back. Now he's blushing and sidetracked, Baekhyun realizes, and he shakes his head, eyes honing in on the obnoxiously yellow paragraph before him. 

"Baek, I'm going out," Jongdae's voice sounds far away and annoyed. "Please sleep." 

Baekhyun waves him off with a hum, focused only on finishing this section of analysis. If he can make it through this, he can sleep -- that's the deal he's made with himself. 

He's a little scared to sleep, though, because when he gets stressed like this, the nightmares come back more, ruining his chances of catching up on missed slumber. Maybe it'd be better to just avoid sleeping altogether and just pull an all-nighter, he considers. Having no sleep would balance out the nightmarish thoughts and, when he finally did let himself drift off, he'd be too tired for his mind to concoct terrifying situations, to make him relive memories of high school. 

All-nighter it is, then. He's three sentences into the next paragraph when he hears a knock on the door, soft and timid, definitively  _not_  Jongdae. 

Baekhyun looks down at himself -- the leggings, the hoodie, the socks and slippers, all old and ratty -- and he hopes it's no one important. Maybe he'd left a shirt in the dryer downstairs? Maybe Jongdae dropped something in the hallway? It was probably just a neighbor here to return something, to complain about the noise Jongdae makes on the daily.

He prays for it to be a small inconvenience as he pushes his hair out of his face and stands up. The sound of his back popping accompanies his walk to the door, and he feels relief seeping from the bones to the rest of his back. He's almost relaxed when he opens it to reveal a very shy, very charming Chanyeol. A messy haired, oversized t-shirt wearing Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun wants to scream. This  _wasn't_  expected -- if he had known Chanyeol would be here, he would've showered, would've put on something half decent. Chanyeol's eyes drift over his face and down to his clothes, settling comfortably on him, and there seems to be no judgement made, but Baekhyun feels his throat closing a little anyway. Maybe it's the way Chanyeol's eyes roam like that, or maybe it's just Chanyeol in general, but Baekhyun is suddenly bashful, full of butterflies and anxiety and warm, bubbly feelings. 

"What's . . . What's up?" Baekhyun coughs away the hesitance in his voice. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to go get food on this side of campus," Chanyeol's face is twitching with ancticipation. "And you live around here. I wanted to take you for some lunch. If you want to, that is. You don't have to. But I thought you might want food, or that you might be hungry for dessert. If you're not, you can just get coffee or something -- not that you  _have_  to go, that's not what I'm saying. I meant that there's a ton of options for you, if you end up going with me, which you don't have to do. Sorry."

Baekhyun wants to laugh at the way Chanyeol's voice sounds uncharacteristically high-pitched, obviously nervous to intrude, to ask these questions. But then he watches Chanyeol's eyes trail from his body to his face to the sign hanging above Baekhyun's bed -- the one that Chanyeol had made, cheered with, and given to Baekhyun when they got back to the campus. The sign professing that Baekhyun had 'skated into his heart.' The one that Baekhyun stares at when he couldn't sleep or when he thought of rough hands grabbing for his neck, pushing him down onto harsh pavement. 

However ridiculous and cringe-inducing it had first appeared to Baekhyun, there's no reason for him to ever throw it away, he thinks. He likes the warmth that settles in his stomach when he thinks of it, when he pictures Chanyeol's gentle hands around his cheeks instead, lips prying secrets from Baekhyun's. 

"You kept it?" Chanyeol ventures to question, his voice coming out delicate and surprised, a mix of wonder and happiness.

It sounds like music to Baekhyun's ears and, for a minute, he wonders what it would be like to thread his fingers through Chanyeol's hair, to lay on his bed like the time they'd watched a movie together. To close his eyes and sleep, finally sleep, with Chanyeol's deep voice surrounding him, the glittery sign above them, soft afternoon sun heating the blankets around them. 

It's a dangerous thought. 

"Of course," Baekhyun shrugs. "I've never had a fan before; I have to keep it." 

Chanyeol makes a face at that, like he's eaten something sour, and he shakes his head. Before he can inquire about the look, about the way Chanyeol's cheeks turn rosy, there's a low rumbling sound. It's thunder, the pair realize belatedly, and Baekhyun suddenly concludes that he can't send Chanyeol away in the rain, can't ignore his hunger and shut the door on the boy now. 

Not that  _that_  was his plan. 

"Oh, it's raining," Chanyeol sounds disappointed, almost a little hurt, that the weather betrayed his plan. Baekhyun likes the way his voice rumbles like the thunder shaking the clouds, the way his eyes flash like lightning when they make eye contact. 

"Are you still hungry?" Baekhyun asks hesitantly, kicking his slippers off and moving to slip into some sneakers.

He needs a break anyway -- maybe getting coffee with Chanyeol will keep him awake for a few more minutes, and then he'll still be on schedule to pull an all-nighter. Maybe he wants to spend a few minutes with him, if only to watch the way his hair curls further in the rain, the way his eyelashes would look if they were wet against his cheekbones. Maybe he just likes rainy days, he reasons.

Chanyeol nods fervently, though his face looks distraught at the idea of going out in the rain, of subjecting Baekhyun to the elements in his thin leggings and cute hoodie and soft eyes and -- nevermind, Chanyeol thinks, that's a different day's thought process.

"We don't  _have_  to. I just stopped by because I thought you might be hungry, but I don't want to force you to go out in the rain just because --" 

Baekhyun ignores the taller's rambling, shuffling out into the hallway with his phone and wallet safely tucked away in the pocket of his hoodie. He's close to Chanyeol now, in a way that demands them to be, closed door pushing them together. 

It takes some restraint on Chanyeol's part to keep from leaning in and ghosting lips over Baekhyun's squishy little cheeks, from pushing a lock of hair out of the shorter's face. He's holding back a lot, he knows, especially when he considers the amount of times he's wound up alone in the shower, thinking of Baekhyun, dreaming of soft skin against his. 

He's snapped out of his daydream when Baekhyun's hand brushes against his, just enough to send chills down his arms. 

"There's a cafe a minute away," Baekhyun explains as he advances down the hall. There's something powerful in the way he walks, the way his hips sway, that makes Chanyeol feel as if the shorter is on the ice. 

He scurries after the boy, heart leaping out of his ribcage, Sehun's choice of words ringing through his head: boyfriend.

After a jog in the pouring rain, Baekhyun finally stops at a small business, pulling the door open quickly and slipping inside. Chanyeol follows within seconds, shivering from the cold water running down his back. Baekhyun had a hoodie -- thank goodness, Chanyeol thinks, because he didn't plan ahead and wouldn't have had anything to give Baekhyun \-- but he'd just been in a t-shirt.

Baekhyun seems to notice this, too, when he turns around and sees the soaked boy behind him, feigning a happy smile. Chanyeol's hair is wet and curly and his cheeks are flushed. The shirt clings to him in ways that makes Baekhyun avert his eyes, fearing that if he looks too long, something will be given away. He needs to  _cover_ everything up as soon as possible, if only for Baekhyun's sanity.

He always jokes that Chanyeol is skinny and unassuming, but, really, Baekhyun hates the way his biceps are outlined, the way the wet fabric clings to hard stomach muscles, the way Chanyeol's face looks so soft compared to the muscles that are clearly visible through his sopping wet clothes. 

"Wow, it's freezing when you're soaking wet," Chanyeol jokes, rubbing large hands over himself dramatically. Usually, it'd be cute -- but today Baekhyun can feel his eyes trailing over his body, can feel others in the cafe doing the same. 

"Let's just get food and run back," Baekhyun says, a bitter taste in his mouth at the looks his (god what _was_  he?) Chanyeol was garnering. "You'll catch a cold." 

"Sounds good. Here, I'll pay, since I forced you out," Chanyeol pushes past him to squint at the menu, hair flinging small drops of water when he turns his head to smile at Baekhyun. "Do you want coffee?" 

Baekhyun feels almost speechless, so he nods, memorizing the sharp lines of Chanyeol's backbones and the trail of his spine. He supposes that, before this moment, he should've realized that Chanyeol is popular. Chanyeol is tall and nice and talented, not to mention strong and handsome. It makes sense for girls and boys to want him, for people to flock to him like the jock he is. Like the football captain he is. 

But he realizes it for the first time when he watches the cashier trail her eyes down his face, his chest, his arms. Chanyeol is  _attractive_ , and he's chosen to spend time with annoying, scary Baekhyun, has chosen to ignore the girl's hungry eyes.

It sets something alight in Baekhyun's stomach, something that makes him feel queasy and sweaty and angry. But he ignores it and whispers his order to Chanyeol softly, watching the hair on the back of the taller's neck stand up, shivering involuntarily. He adores that he has this effect on the other boy -- he relishes in the way Chanyeol's body leans toward him when he tells her the order, as if they're a pair. 

He likes it even more when Chanyeol's wet hand lands on his waist, pulling him away from the counter and toward him, naturally. The look of confusion in the cashier's eyes sends a thrill into Baekhyun's blood, and his pulse quickens as he leans into the touch more, feeling connected by the waist, feeling like everywhere Chanyeol touches is on fire.

"It'll be ready in a minute," Chanyeol's voice is low and it only adds to the boil in Baekhyun's veins. "What were you working on when I came over? I noticed the papers. Sorry to interrupt." 

"It's a business essay," Baekhyun sighs when he thinks about it, a small headache forming as if on command. "It's for my major."

Chanyeol looks over to Baekhyun confusedly, forehead bunching into lines. 

"Why? You're going to become a professional ice skater." 

He sounds so  _sure._ Baekhyun wishes he was that confident -- but between the rough years in high school and blows to his confidence over the years, everything is blurry. Dreams stay only as dreams sometimes, and he's scared that one of these days, he'll have to wake up. 

"I want to be a professional ice skater. I want to go to the olympics. I want to do what I love, but that doesn't mean I  _will_. Life isn't like that." 

Chanyeol shakes his head, fingers around Baekhyun's waist tracing patterns against the hoodie's material. 

"You're going to do it; I've seen you skate. There's nothing holding you back. Trust me, you're going to make history and win gold and become everything you've ever dreamed of." 

Baekhyun wants to believe him. But he thinks about the nights when he can't sleep because of stupid, stupid memories. He thinks of the times when he's in a room full of people and he feels like his throat is constricting. He thinks about the time when he'd been scared of Chanyeol, when the arm around his waist would've made him shake. There's a lot holding him back, he thinks, but he ignores the pounding in his ears, instead focusing on their take-out bag of food sitting on the counter. 

"Come on," Baekhyun mumbles, slipping out of Chanyeol's grasp to head toward the door. He feels a little dizzy, a little uncomfortable with the fond intensity that Chanyeol had spoken with. It feels like Chanyeol is trying to  _know_  him. Like Chanyeol wants to hear about his nightmares, like Chanyeol might care. 

He can feel the taller running behind him, can hear the crinkling of the brown bag, and notes the sound of Chanyeol's breath against his neck when they're huddled by the entrance to the dorms, Baekhyun's cold, wet hands fumbling with his keycard. They're inside in a few seconds, harsh breathing and Chanyeol's chilled skin mingling with Baekhyun's. It feels like something sacred, like something that he can't afford to mess up. 

Chanyeol is tall and goofy and loud, but he likes Baekhyun, somehow. He likes him enough to suffer in the cold rain just in case Baekhyun was hungry, to follow him up the stairs obediently, to slip into his apartment wordlessly, eyes wide and clothes wet. 

"Here, I'll grab you something. You're soaked to the bone." 

Baekhyun's voice sounds hollow, as if he's holding something back, and Chanyeol lets his hand graze Baekhyun's neck softly, lets it settle on his shoulder as he watches the shorter ruffle through his clothes. He wants something sweet and understood to seep through, but all that get transferred is a few drops of water. 

Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun pulls out sweatpants and a t-shirt (obviously too big for Baekhyun) that reads 'Los Angeles' in ugly, sprayed on letters. It's very touristy, and the taller feels a glimmer of joy at the image of tiny Baekhyun in an oversized shirt at the beach, running around in the summer sun. Then he sees an entire section of vibrant jewel tones, of sparkles. They're Baekhyun's performance costumes, he realizes, and that's when Chanyeol comprehends that Baekhyun is _small_. 

He'd always known it -- had always towered over him, admired the way his hands were slim and small, the way his legs were wide compared to his waist. But when he looks at the way the costumes are small and form-fitting, when he finally understands that Baekhyun is short and flexible and could fit into the palms of his hands, it's like a jolt of electricity.

He feels embarrassed at the blood rushing south, at the way his heart thumps at the thought of lifting Baekhyun, of wrapping the boy's strong legs around his, of consuming the boy's waist in the span of two hands. 

He's thankful to get out of the wet clothes, but the scent of Baekhyun completely on him does nothing to help his situation, does nothing to help the way he's staring at Baekhyun like he's hungry for more than just food. He feels a little disgusting, so he adjusts himself to eat with a pillow over his lap, focusing the way Baekhyun relishes in his coffee instead.

"Thanks," Chanyeol says then. He means for the clothes and for the food, but nothing is specified. Baekhyun isn't sure if they need to specify anything to each other, anymore.

"Thanks for the coffee and the distraction," Baekhyun says, finally snapping out of whatever trance he was in. He's forgotten the look in Chanyeol's eyes, has buried the feeling of vulnerability in his chest for now. 

"Baekhyun," his voice is somewhat gruff, lower than usual, and it alerts Baekhyun of some sort of changed atmosphere. He notices the pillow over Chanyeol's lap, notices the lingering stares, notices the tremble in his fingers. "I want you to know that you deserve the best." 

Baekhyun only raises his eyebrows in return, so the taller continues on. 

"I don't know what has, you know, happened in the past. But I know that you work so hard," Chanyeol looks away to stare at the wall. "I wish you could tell how much everyone in the skating department loves you, how much Jongdae cares about you, how much your training has helped me. In more ways than one, really." 

 "Chanyeol, what are you trying to say?" Baekhyun feels a little uncomfortable with the topic, with the way Chanyeol's voice affects him.

"I want you to pursue figure skating. I want you to do what you believe the most in. I want you to spit in the face of anyone who says otherwise. I want you to win gold in the Olympics. I want you to go out there and show the world. I want you to live your dream --" 

"How do you  _know_  that's my dream?" Baekhyun is challenging him, the cocky air from the first time they'd met somehow coming back for a split second. He's building up walls, Chanyeol realizes, and he shifts closer. 

"Because I see the way your eyes light up when you skate, when you talk about skating, hell, even when you're teaching me how to fall -- it's what you  _love,_ Baekhyun. I'm not stupid." 

Baekhyun wants to scream that he _is_  stupid, that he's skirting around something new and open and painful. He's making Baekhyun feel as though he cares, as if he wants to talk about his past, as there's a future that Chanyeol has a stake in. As if Chanyeol wants to be part of his future.  

"And? I've known for awhile that it's a pipe dream, that one day I'll have to give up my fucking sparkly costumes to go wear a suit in the real world and --" 

Chanyeol sets down his food almost angrily, but he stops himself, afraid that he'll scare Baekyun, that he'll make a mistake he can't fix. 

"Dreams should be pursued," Chanyeol is resolute. "And when you shine when you're on the ice, when you own the crowd's attention, that dream becomes a reality. It's what you're best it, it's what makes you happiest, Baekhyun. If it makes you smile, I don't want you to ever stop doing it." 

There's something unsaid in that sentence, but Chanyeol's tone gives it away. 

"What about being realistic? Why should I just follow my heart, follow my smile?" 

Chanyeol shrugs, despondent, and takes a bite of his food.

"Because your smile is pretty. I want you to be happy, that's all. And I know skating makes you happy." 

Baekhyun likes the way he's oblivious, adores the way his wet hair is drying into curls. He looks peaceful, inexplicably soft like this, and Baekhyun suddenly feels tired. He's exhausted, and there's someone next to him radiating comfort and heat. It feels like Chanyeol cares about him, like there's affection lacing each word, even when they're said in frustration. 

"I'm tired, Chanyeol," Baekhyun's voice comes out soft, weariness mixing with shyness. He's never been one to even  _think_  about cuddling or napping in someone else's arms, but when he thinks about the nightmares, about the rain pouring outside, about Chanyeol's warm hands, his inhibitions evaporate. 

He moves toward his bed and climbs in, leaving a space on the outer side for Chanyeol, feeling his fatigue begin to take over with each second. Chanyeol stares at him, dumbfounded, completely enamoured, for a minute. Then Baekhyun is patting the spot next to him, a noise caught in the back of his throat, and Chanyeol's warm body slides in next to him, 

"I can't follow my smile or my heart," Baekhyun feels pitiful and foolish saying it out loud, but there's something about the way Chanyeol's fingers trace patterns on the sheets that makes him candid. "When I was in high school, kids used to pick on me, beat me up, yell at me -- all for figure skating. It was stupid, but it  _hurt_ , and I still dream about it sometimes. I feel like they're always there. No matter how much I love skating, I can't stand the memories coming back." 

Chanyeol's arm moves to wrap around Baekhyun's back, pulling him into his chest. It doesn't startle Baekhyun, which he's thankful for, and he focuses on the even breathing hitting his chest in warm puffs of air, on the way the smaller adjusts so that he's comfortable surrounded by Chanyeol.

"I was scared of you because of that. Because they were all tall, popular jocks -- they were just like you," Chanyeol ignores the stab at his heart because, somehow, long ago he'd figured that out. "But you're nice. You make me signs and you protect me." 

Chanyeol feels Baekhyun's face crumple against his chest, like he might cry, but then the shorter boy is gasping for breath, calming himself down. 

"I wish I could do what I want," Baekhyun explains, and then he's pushing Chanyeol's arms away, reaching up to feel Chanyeol's cheekbones. "But until I figure out how, you might have to keep encouraging me. Thanks." 

Chanyeol smiles and Baekhyun feels it against his fingers.

"Anything to make you smile." 

It's cheesy and stupid, but Baekhyun likes the way it makes his stomach churn. Chanyeol likes the heat that Baekhyun shares, likes the way he feels cradled in his arms, honest and open and gentle. 

Baekhyun settles deeper into the blankets, feeling almost content in his sleepy haze of honesty.

Maybe he _should_ trust himself to the taller, maybe he should focus on skating, maybe he should listen to his heart, his smile. And so he pulls  Chanyeol in for a chaste kiss, lips barely brushing, before he's closing his eyes, drifting off to the thrum of the taller's heart beat and the pitter patter of rain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i wanted you guys to have an opportunity to ask me questions about characters or plot or me personally? anything u want really? so, I made a curiouscat! i'll be happy to answer anything i get <333
> 
> https://curiouscat.me/baekyall 
> 
> ok bye guys! thanks for the support, feedback is always appreciated!


	9. nine

_Rough hands are pushing his shoulders, forcing him closer to the ground. It's dusk and the grass is wet from earlier rain. Baekhyun focuses on the familiar smell of mud and how cold the droplets feel on his hands instead of what's happening around him. There's only one boy now, but he's one that scares Baekhyun most, the one that has a smile that turns his insides cold. _

_"Fucking annoying," his voice is as rough as the push that sends Baekhyun headfirst into the damp ground. "That's all you are. Fucking annoying and stupid. Just stop coming to school and make it easier for the rest of us." _

_Baekhyun thinks bitterly about the girls who smile and ask him how his day is, about the kid in his row who wears glasses and smiles when their eyes meet. But, no matter how kind those people are, their kindness doesn't overcome the harsh kick against  Baekhyun's ribs. _

_He wonders why he's putting up with this, why this boy cornered him afterschool in the park, why sparks of light flit behind his lids with each hit. But he can't wonder, not when a rather hard kick in the chest sends him into a coughing fit, not when the boy's awful laugh mingles with his strangled breaths._

_"You think you're so much better than everyone else, wearing your little outfits and skating and going to Seoul on the weekends," another kick, "You look down on everyone here. But you're not shit, and you never will be. Understand?"_

_Baekhyun can't speak, not right now, so he nods along despite the voice in his head screaming not to. It's easier to comply than to fight back; he's learned that, if anything. It's not good enough for the bully, apparently.  Baekhyun's pulled up by his shirt until he's looking up at the boy, arms limp at his side and heart drumming. _

_"Say it. Say that you'll never be shit. Say it like the bitch you are."_

_He wants to spit in this boy's face, wants to get back at him, wants to feel satisfaction rolling through his stomach instead of fear, but his mouth is numb and his legs are too tired to hold him up on his own. He opens his mouth to say it, but nothing comes out but a pained whimper. The boy smiles again and his lips curl in the way that makes Baekhyun's mind go blank, that sends a panicked flare rocketing into Baekhyun's mind. _

_Then he's hitting the ground again, this time completely limp, this time with a thud that Baekhyun can't understand. He feels like he's out of his body, like he's not even experiencing it. The pain is so sharp that it feels blurred, so real that Baekhyun is convinced it's fake, so fresh that Baekhyun knows it's old. _

It's all gone, and the air that fills Baekhyun's lungs doesn't cause pain this time. It's chilly and dark in his room, so dark that he can only feel Chanyeol, not truly see him. The taller is asleep comfortably next to him, warm body radiating a sort of heat and comfort that Baekhyun didn't realize he'd been lacking. His deeps breaths seem to tease Baekhyun as he gasps for air, shaking. 

No matter how many gulps of air he sucks in, nothing seems to stick with him, leaving him sweaty and panting and scared. He feels weak, knows that he can't still act like this all affects him so much, not when it's been years. 

The thought of the rough hands makes his face crumple, though, and before he can help it, he's crying. He hasn't been this bad since freshman year, hasn't needed this level of calming in years, and his awareness of it makes everything worse. He'd thought he'd made progress, yet here he was, sobbing because he had a dream that someone pushed him. 

His chest feels tight and his throat aches from holding in sobs, so he sits up in order to breathe better, lets his shoulders shake freely when he knows that they won't touch Chanyeol's. Tears burn hot down his cheeks in shame and fear, but he stares out the window and tries to think about the moon, about the breeze, about the calm things in his life. 

This only brings another round of tears because, god, the moon makes him sad sometimes, and this is an awful night with a hideous breeze and disgusting stars and rough hands that grab him. 

He can feel them now, can feel long fingers wrapping around his wrist. His heart leaps to match the hammering rain outside, panic spreading through him quickly.

But these hands aren't rough, they're soft and warm. Baekhyun's head snaps down to watch as Chanyeol's large hands fumble through bedsheets in order to hold him, searching for something. The shorter's mouth falls open when he realizes what Chanyeol is doing, two fingers pressed gently against his wrist, a soft breath of relief slipping between the two when the taller finds a heartbeat. 

Chanyeol just checked his pulse in his sleep.

It's kind of funny, Baekhyun thinks. He'd never really asked Chanyeol what his major was, but he knows that it's something medical and science-y, knows that Chanyeol has the temperment to help people, to spread light and smiles and happiness. 

Satisfied with the check, sleepy Chanyeol pulls Baekhyun's wrists toward him, bringing the shorter to his chest softly and wrapping his arms around him. He doesn't know how or why, but his body doesn't protest against the taller boy, relaxing into the heat and letting his breathing set a rythm for them both.

"Sleep, Baek'un," Chanyeol mumbles softly, voice filled with sleep and confusion. 

Chanyeol's chest is burning warm against Baekhyun's cold, tear-stained cheek, and he closes his eyes. It's hard to banish all thoughts of his dream, but it's easier when Chanyeol's heartbeat is drumming a lullaby in his ear, soft fingertips erasing the rough hands that make Baekhyun shake. 

\--

Jongdae wakes them up with a scream, one that's ear-splitting and easily heard by every resident in their entire dorm. 

At first, Baekhyun thinks that it's thunder or an animal outside or both, but when he shoots up in bed and meets his roommate's eyes, the illusion is shattered and his blood boils. What an _idiot._

Chanyeol is gasping for air and clutching his chest, strangled sobs falling out with every breath. He's easily scared, Baekhyun notes, and it's kind of cute, but the taller's cuteness does nothing to make Jongdae's yelling and his own residual embarrassment go away. 

"What? Who's hurt?" Chanyeol's voice is panicked but his eyes are bleary and tired, a little puffy. It's definitely cute, Baekhyun thinks. 

"No one's hurt, Chanyeol," Jongdae's voice goes giggly at the end, high-pitched and giddy. "You both seemed pretty _comfortable_ , actually." 

It's then that the situation seems to click for the tallest boy, eyes widening as he realizes that he still holds Baekhyun half in his arms, that their bodies are crammed on one side of the bed, that they had snuggled last night. Baekhyun can only look away, ignoring the nervousness boiling in his stomach, avoiding looking at how adorable Chanyeol is in the morning. 

Chanyeol takes a hard gulp at the sight of just-woken Baekhyun and the position they were in, slowly detangling his limbs from around the smaller boy. Jongdae watches them both turn a bright shade of red and smiles in the way only he can -- the one that makes his lips curl up completely, the one that makes Baekhyun's vision blur from embarrassment. 

"I didn't mean to wake you lovebirds up," he shrugs. "I just didn't expect to see you in Baekhyun's bed, especially not all over him,  _especially_  not --" 

"He gets the point, Dae," Baekhyun's voice is exasperated and breaks on the last word, much to the short boy's dismay. "Why don't you just  _leave_?"

He climbs out over Chanyeol and tries his very best to  _not_  acknowledge the way he can feel the football player's eyes following his movements and tracing the outline of his ass. But he can, and it sends a satisfied thrill through his veins, no matter how much he tries to ignore it or hide the blush crawling up his cheeks. 

" _Me_? I should leave _my_ dorm? What, you two didn't have enough fun last night, is that it?  Baek, I was out with my girlfriend all night, which means I am in  _dire_  need of sleep. You can't deprive me of a good nap at seven in the morning; I know my rights." 

Chanyeol half coughs and half laughs at this, even though Baekhyun turns to glare at him in betrayal. Jongdae smiles smugly and flops into his bed, parallel to the one that Chanyeol is still half asleep in. 

"We didn't have any  _fun_  last night, you little asshole," Baekhyun whispers frantically, advancing toward his best friend in a menacing manner, ready to attack. He loves Jongdae, but there are some things that he shouldn't make fun of. Baekhyun's stupid, weird feelings toward Chanyeol are on the list. 

Before he can maul his roommate, however, there's a familiar, soft hand snaking around his elbow, drawing his attention away. 

"Baekhyun, I'll leave first," Chanyeol's ears are beet red and his cheeks are following suit. 

"I'll walk you down," Baekhyun offers, throwing Jongdae one last hateful look. 

Only when they're out in the hall and headed down the stairs does Baekhyun remember the embarrassing cry session that Chanyeol had stopped. He looks over to Chanyeol cautiously, too afraid to mention it, too afraid to thank the taller for comforting him. Chanyeol looks back at him when he feels on him, but there's nothing in eyes that suggests that he's going to bring it up, at least not right now, so Baekhyun relaxes. 

"Sorry for causing trouble," Chanyeol says instead, voice deep from sleep but soft with shyness. "I didn't mean to sleep the entire night or cuddle you or anything. I'm just like that when I sleep." 

He's just  _like that_?  Baekhyun wants to laugh, wants to question how many times Chanyeol's checked someone's pulse and lulled them back to sleep, but he abstains when he sees the sincerity in Chanyeol's eyes. Of course he's sincere. Of course he doesn't remember anything -- being kind unknowingly, caring without realizing it -- it's what Chanyeol's best at. 

"No,  _I'm_  sorry. I made you lay down with me." 

Saying it like that seems so odd, and Baekhyun blushes despite himself. Chanyeol watches in fascination as the boy beside him turns soft in a minute, as his cheeks heat up and the usually cold eyes melt. He likes those words, likes the sound of laying down with someone, of peaceful sleep and soft hair. And, god, Baekhyun had soft hair -- and soft hands and pretty eyelashes and an amazing smile. 

He's getting carried away, he knows it, but Chanyeol can't stop himself from zoning out on the mole above Baekhyun's lip, in the way his small feet gracefully tread down the steps of the building as if each step is calculated and graceful. 

"It's okay, I like naps. You seemed tired and stressed; I'm glad I could help," Chanyeol smiles goofily then, a smile that sends an electric jolt down Baekhyun's spine. "Call me if you ever need a nap again, I'm willing." 

It's joking, but there's something serious there, too, and Baekhyun questions whether Chanyeol remembers the night's events or not. It's too confusing to focus on, though, when Chanyeol's little dimples and messy hair are moving closer and closer to him. Maybe he's going for a hug, or maybe a full on kiss, but Baekhyun can't focus, can't stop screaming internally, can't choose whether to lurch forward and meet him halfway or to turn away altogether. 

Chanyeol stops before he has to make the call, though. The taller catches himself leaning in, too scared to iniate, to invade Baekhyun's space. 

"See you at practice!" Chanyeol says instead, awkwardly laughing to cover up their sudden proximity and the starry look in his eyes. 

Baekhyun doesn't want to send him away like this; it doesn't feel right. He thinks about the hands that found his last night, the sleepy voice that had called out to him, the warmth that had stopped the dream from coming back, the thrum of Chanyeol's heartbeat against his ear. 

Knowing what he feels for Chanyeol is confusing, especially when he thinks about all the qualities he's supposed to hate -- but then he thinks harder and knows that Chanyeol doesn't have any of them. He plays football, he's proud, he's dumb, but he's nothing like the people who shoved him in the dirt in high school. Chanyeol is loving and kind -- Chanyeol made himself Baekhyun's friend, has been leaning toward something else for weeks. 

"See you at practice," Baekhyun replies quietly, mustering up courage to do something to show Chanyeol a glimpse of his heart, even if he's not so sure what it's thinking, etiher.

Standing on his tiptoes, he plants a tiny kiss on Chanyeol's nose and spins around to go back to his room. He can hear Chanyeol fumbling over words even as he leaves, too caught up in the sudden rush of emotions to decipher what the taller is mumbling about. Not that he cares, he tells himself fondly. 

\--

He's way too early; he knows it. But when being early involves watching Baekhyun skate his routine and interact with other skaters, it's something to strive for, Chanyeol thinks.

Especially when he spies Kyungsoo on the far side of the rink, wrapped in a blanket and reading a book solemenly. He looks like he's _waiting_ for someone, and the taller's suspicions are confirmed when Jongin skates by the edge of the rink, says somehing, and flashes the short boy a smile -- and earns a wide smile back. 

It takes a lot to not barge in and tease Kyungsoo, specifically when he watches the shorter start to pack up his book and blanket in anticipation. Jongin's off the ice in a few seconds, yelling things at Baekhyun and the other skaters, eyes never leaving Kyungsoo. It's obvious to Chanyeol that there's something in the air, though he knows that Kyungsoo would never admit it to his face. 

Jongin makes a grab for Kyungsoo's bag, but the shorter pushes him away -- he can do it himself, obviously, and Jongin is tired after pratice. The taller lets him win, left hand reaching up to rest on the small of Kyungsoo's back comfortably, and they leave. Chanyeol files it away in his memory but decides against telling Sehun, if only for Kyungsoo's privacy and pride. 

Then his focus turns on the boy still on the ice, giggling and laughing with the others and showing off to some of the freshman girls. It's cute, Chanyeol thinks, because Baekhyun is so  _charming_ when he's on ice, is so friendly when there are people looking at him. He likes this side of Baekhyun, even if watching those girls fawn over him makes his stomach flip a little in envy. 

"Who are you?" the voice is so close to him that he jumps, heart leaping at the shock. 

When Chanyeol turns, he's met with the sight of a girl -- a sophomore or junior, maybe? -- wearing workout gear. It's obvious that she's here to practice, and so Chanyeol assumes that she's part of the figure skating department. 

"I'm Park Chanyeol," he responds cautiously. "Baekhyun tutors me in skating. And you?" 

"I'm Park Sunyoung, and I'm a sophomore in the figure skating program. How did you get to know my senior?" 

Her voice is proud and girlish; it's cute. It matches her pony tail and matching athletic wear, matches the impeccable pink lipstick she has on. 

"I needed a tutor and his friend recommended him -- thank goodness, because he's great at skating," Chanyeol smiles at her, noticing the way her cheeks twinge pink. He doesn't  _want_  her the way she probably thinks he does, but she's still nice, so his smile doesn't falter. It's not his job to make Baekhyun's juniors hate him, especially when he shouldn't even  _be_  at the rink yet. 

"Which friend? I don't know many of them," Sunyoung's lips curl into a dainty smile. 

"Kim Jongdae. He's a great guy -- he asked me to help take care of Baekhyun, asked Baekhyun to teach me the ropes. It's up to him that we met, really, and now we're friends," Chanyeol wants to say more, but he doesn't know how much he's allowed to say, how far their relationship extends. 

A few kisses and cuddling means nothing, not when there's been no communication, not even when Chanyeol wishes that they meant everything. 

"Take care of him?" she sounds confused, and Chanyeol regrets bringing it up. It's hard to explain, and he doesn't know how much Baekhyun  _wants_  people to know. 

Instead of explaining, he shrugs. "You know, just friend stuff." 

She nods knowingly, even though Chanyeol is positive that his answer was vague enough for her to have no idea. Sunyoung doesn't stop her nodding, letting a hand reach out to linger on Chanyeol's bicep. It's awkward and intrusive, but he can't really push her off when he doesn't _know_  her. He can't linger on that thought for long, though, because before he knows it, he can hear his name being shouted -- Baekhyun's seen him. 

"Chanyeol!" his voice sounds tiny yet booming, so close yet so far, and Chanyeol's pulse quickens at the sound. "Why are you here?" 

Chanyeol nods his head softly to her in a polite farewell and scurries down the bleachers to meet the shorter boy at the rink's edge. He has to think of a lie quickly -- he told Baekhyun he'd be here in half an hour, yet here he is, watching the shorter like some sort of love-obsessed loser. 

There's no judgement in Baekhyun's eyes, he recognizes, but there's something else, something that is boiling and odd and foreign. 

"I got up early today," he lies. It sounds lame even to him, but it's too late to think of a better excuse now. Baekhyun's eyes soften when he says it, and everything feels on kilter again, but then they harden again almost inexplicably.  

"Why don't you go get your skates on while I finish up?" Baekhyun's voice is soft and sweet, the way it gets when Chanyeol does something right during practice, the way it sounded when Baekhyun was tired that afternoon. 

Chanyeol nods and jogs off to find his skates, greeting familiar skaters on his way, and Baekhyun turns as the short girl makes her way down the bleachers. She seems nice enough -- Baekhyun's only met her a few times, how can he judge? -- but the image of her scooting closer to Chanyeol, of her tight grip on his arm leaves a bitter taste in Baekhyun's mouth. 

"Senior," she bows with a smile. "Hope you had a good practice? I was just talking to one of your friends, Chanyeol." 

Baekhyun knows there's nothing else that Chanyeol would  _call_ himself, but he can't shake the feeling that friend isn't the right word, not for the tall boy who giggles with him in psychology and holds his waist on the ice, the one who makes him glittery signs and shares milkshakes with him. 

"He was telling me about how you tutor him in skating, that's so cool!" she smiles and her lips disappear slightly, eyes turning to crescents. "He said you guys met through Kim Jongdae, right? I think my friend knows him." 

"Yeah, Jongdae told Chanyeol's friend that I'd be a great tutor," Baekhyun feels a little flattered by her attitude, and he's almost decided to like her afterall. "Not sure if that's true, though." 

"He said you were practically prodigal," Sunyoung laughs and her ponytail sways. "It's nice that you guys have a mutual relationship of giving -- it's pure, I think." 

 _Pure_?  Baekhyun's mind spins at her words. Who said that they had a mutual relationship? It's always purely a tutor-student relationship, no matter which point of view you looked at it from. 

"What do you mean?" Baekhyun's eyebrows furrow in confusion, trying to decipher what she meant and once again coming up blank. 

"You teach him," her eyes are wide. "And he protects you, right? That's what he said the deal was. Jongdae found him for that reason." 

Baekhyun feels his stomach drop at the words, at the realization.

Chanyeol hadn't  _wanted_  to be his friend -- Jongdae had made him promise to keep Baekhyun safe.

All the times Chanyeol had followed him around and acted like he cared, the nights of laughter in the rink and the fight at the party -- it was a  _deal_. 

The entire time he'd been convincing himself that Chanyeol wasn't like other dumb guys he'd met, that Chanyeol was a caring boy with soft eyes and softer hands. He'd let himself flutter and fly and dream about Chanyeol, kissed him, let the taller block out his fears with wide shoulders and whispered words. He'd let Chanyeol be someone he shouldn't have been -- he'd let Chanyeol use him, let Chanyeol hear his secrets, let Chanyeol be a confidant and friend. 

Baekhyun feels everything cave in at once, heart drenched in regret and face steaming up with tears. He can't believe he's so stupid, can't believe he'd believed anything that those soft eyes had shown him, had ever thought he could see his own heart reflected in them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHHHHH  this is sad :) sorry guys lol 
> 
> it's been awhile but i finished high school so....that's cool klsdfkjsdlkf 
> 
> BYE BYE (once again here's my curiouscat in case yall wanna yell at me!! https://curiouscat.me/baekyall)


	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the inconsistent posting. I'm going to try and set a posting schedule for myself so I can get my shit together. Love you all!

Baekhyun doesn't realize how far he's run until the burn in his lungs becomes too much to bear, until his legs feel like jelly, until the clouds in his eyes clear. It's dreary and chilly outside, but his forehead is covered in sweat, heart pumping far too fast inside his chest. It's like he's on the edge of a nightmare, like he'll topple off the cliff he's been balancing on for years.

He's far from the rink, far from his dorm -- he's almost off campus, actually. Maybe that's for the better, Baekhyun thinks, gulping in the cold air. Maybe he needs to leave for now; maybe he never needs to think about how easily Chanyeol had both invaded his trust and ripped it apart.

His heart had been steeped in Chanyeol's smiles for a minute too long; he'd gotten too used to his presence and the calm it brought him. He'd forgotten that their relationship -- their friendship, Baekhyun corrects himself -- was built on nothing more than learning to skate, on a list of demands that Jongdae had laid out. 

It makes Baekhyun feel sick, honestly. He can't stop his mind from traveling, from replaying the way Chanyeol's hair curls against his ears, how his shoulders disappear in his big hoodies, the feel of his lips when they're pressed against Baekhyun's so softly. Baekhyun knows that he should've figured it out, should've suspected that a guy like Chanyeol would have no reason to dote on him, to hold him like he did -- at least, not without reason.

The fact that Baekhyun had always initiated every kiss, every touch -- it hits him now, harder than a fall on the ice. Chanyeol had never wanted what happened between them, had never pushed the boundaries. He'd smile and joke and invite Baekhyun places, but Chanyeol's fingers would never linger too long. 

He's crying, he realizes, and this forces his body to halt. Once he's stopped moving, he realizes that it really is cold out here, that he didn't grab his coat from the locker room -- just slipped out of his skates and into sneakers, moving as quickly as possible in order to make it outside before tears could overflow. With shaky hands, Baekhyun forces his numb fingers to dial a familiar number, even as uneasiness settles in his stomach at the thought of it. 

"Can you come get me?" he coughs in order to shield the nasal in his voice, to disguise the tears that are still welling in his eyes.  "I don't know where I am." 

The noise his best friend makes is confused and worried, immediately agreeing, automatically conducting an interview on his whereabouts and the catch in his voice. Jongdae knows him so well, knows that the tone of his voice was more than distressed, knows that Baekhyun is teetering on the brink of more tears as he waits. 

He can't find it in himself to blame Jongdae in all of this. After all, his best friend had just wanted him to be comfortable. Trusting Chanyeol and his soft eyes and his fake words wasn't Jongdae's fault; he only had one person to blame -- himself. 

\--

Chanyeol's only met with a confused Sunyoung when he returns from putting on his skates. She looks shaken, her pink painted lips open in confusion. His eyes are questioning and the short girl shrugs in return, flabbergasted. 

"Where's Baekhyun?" he asks, looking around. His eyes only pick up on younger skaters on the ice, his mentor nowhere to be seen. He can't imagine why Baekhyun would suddenly disappear, but when he looks back to the girl, he's met with guilty eyes. Suddenly, his stomach is uneasy with fear. 

"I don't know! It was so strange. I'm confused, honestly --" 

"What happened? Is he hurt?" Chanyeol leans down without waiting for a response, unlacing his skates with inept hands. Something about the image of a pained Baekhyun sends icy fear pouring into his bloodstream, and suddenly the confusion is replaced with an acute sense of fear. 

"He just  _left,"_ she says, voice high pitched and laced with confusion. "I was just talking to him about you and Jongdae and your friendships -- I was trying to be friendly. And he bolted." 

"What do you mean?" Chanyeol's voice comes out rushed as he kicks his left skate off. He fingers fumble to start on the right skate as well, situations swirling around in his mind, illogical conclusions pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

"I just brought up what you told me about," her voice lowers in shame, as if she's worried for the other skaters to notice that something is amiss. "And his eyes got all sad and far away and he was leaving before I could say anything else. I honestly don't know." 

Chanyeol nods her worried eyes away, heading toward the locker room instead of the ice, determined to follow after Baekhyun. He's throwing his skates back into Baekhyun's locker when he recognizes the dark green coat hanging there, the soft scarf that Baekhyun's always bundled in. The acidic sea thrashing in Chanyeol's stomach finally burns a hole through, leaving him feeling empty and queasy at the thought of Baekhyun rushing out without getting any of his belongings. 

It translates to intense panic, to a thoughtlessness that Chanyeol hasn't seen in Baekhyun's actions since that morning his eyes looked so frightened in the bakery. Chanyeol's never been big on intuititon, but the burn in his throat tells him Baekhyun won't be reaching out to him first this time, that there will be no text messages and emoji hearts and sleepy smiles. 

He grabs the coat and scarf with a deep sigh, relishing in the way they're soft and warm and smell like Baekhyun. Pushing his way back toward the entrance of the rink, into the gusts of frigid wind outside, Chanyeol tries to settle the unnerving silence ringing in his head and the violent anxiety tumbling in his stomach. 

\--

He picks at his comforter with no-longer-numb fingers, avoiding looking to his roommate -- something he's becoming increasingly skilled in, especially after the silent car ride home from the edge of campus.

"Baek, what happened?" Jongdae's voice is quiet -- quieter than Baekhyun thinks he's heard in years, even more hushed than the time he'd been dumped by his first girlfriend. Jongdae had, of course, been devastated, but, in typical Jongdae fashion, he'd hidden that all in favor of cracking a joke, of smiling like he always had. There's no trace of that humor in Jongdae's tone now, though, and it's alarming. 

Baekhyun can see genuine worry in his eyes and it only makes sadness and anger mingle more in his brain, leaving him scrambling to connect the dots, to find a way to react that doesn't feel so awful and painful. He wants it to all make sense, wants to trust that his best friend was looking out for him, wants to find a way to disconnect the feeling of being lied to from the boy in front of him.

He wishes he could smile it all away like Jongdae, could fake that everything was fine, but when Baekhyun tries to move his lips into a smile, he can feel it crumpling immediately, almost pathetically, and he knows that there's no way for him to feign his happiness right now.

So, despite the doubts creeping into the corners of his mind about the entire situation, he opens up to his best friend, just like always. 

"This junior at the rink started talking about you and Chanyeol and me and," Baekhyun looks up to meet Jongdae's eyes, looking for the sincerity that's always hiding in them. "She said stuff about Chanyeol being told -- told to _protect_ me." 

Jongdae makes a noise, something between confusion and recognition. "I told him to not let his teammates bully you while he was learning to skate." 

Baekhyun's eyes look hopeful, impossibly wide and brown and filled with a lot more than fear. 

"Really?" 

Jongdae nods, small smile showing itself for the first time that day, and it sets a flame of comfort alight in Baekhyun's chest. It's distinguished just as quickly, however, because the reality of it being  _true_  sets in. 

"That's not how the junior said it, though. Chanyeol told her we had a  _mutual_ relationship. I was a teacher and he was a bodyguard and that was it. And the worst part is that he  _told_  her! He doesn't even know Sunyoung, why would he say anything to her?" Baekhyun feels himself getting worked up, so he moves to sprawl across his bed instead. "He treated me like a friend and wouldn't leave me alone during pyschology, but it was all because it was like a job to him. Probably thought it was fun to mess with the antisocial kid he's in charge of." 

Jongdae purses his lips, unsure.

"Baek, I really think you're overthinking it." 

"I don't think I am," his voice is sad. "He probably thought it was funny and cute to bring me around his friends, to invite me to parties. He probably thought he could put me in an uncomortable position and rush in like prince charming -- and he did. Jongdae, it was a  _game_." 

By now, Baekhyun is facing the wall, tears fighting their way into his eyes, panic taking over, brain too far past any semblance of logic. He feels dramatic and annoying, but also validated in his feelings, so sure of the doubts piling up. His every thought pricks his skin like thorns, heart and mind and body unsettled. 

"Listen, Baek, I'm positive that he genuinely likes you," Jongdae takes a deep breath. "Why don't I call Kyungsoo and ask? I'm sure he'll agree that Chanyeol isn't using you like you think." 

Baekhyun perks up at this, if only for the hope of proving himself wrong. God, he wants to be wrong. Baekhyun traces a circle against his bare arm, hoping to distract himself from Jongdae's intense stare and lingering proposal.

Though his best friend doesn't nod, Jongdae takes his body language as a yes and pulls out his phone, quickly searching for a familiar skater's number. 

"Jongdae?" Jongin's voice is muddled with another, rather hushed, voice. It takes little to no guessing for Jongdae to connect the dots, a newly familiar face popping up in his mind. 

"Is Kyungsoo there?" 

This seems to stun Jongin, if his abrupt and prolonged silence is any indication. A few seconds of stale air later, Jongin is coughing into the phone, syllables mashing together in what seems to be surprise. "Yeah, how'd you know?" 

"I guessed," Jongdae doesn't miss more whispering in the back. "Can I talk to him?" 

There's shuffling over the line, confused noises and more whispers, and suddenly it's silent all over again. Jongdae takes this chance to switch to speakerphone, noticing the way Baekhyun is fitfully adjusting his clothes. It's painfully obvious that the boy is trying too hard to distract himself from the conversation that's about to take place. 

"Hello?" Kyungsoo's voice is much deeper than Jongin's and it reverberates around the room with a warm intensity. 

"Hey, it's Jongdae. There's been this big misunderstanding with Baekhyun and -- nevermind, I'll just get to the point. Why did Chanyeol invite Baekhyun to the party?" 

" _What_?" 

"Baekhyun. Party. Why?" 

"Look, I'm not sure what happened between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but I don't know if me getting involved will help anything --" there's whispering in this background, but this time Jongdae recognizes that it's Jongin. Probably convincing Kyungsoo to answer, Jongdae thinks gratefully. 

Baekhyun's holding his breath, though he knows that it's futile, that his actions have no effect on what will Kyungsoo divulge. 

 "Sehun and I said something about Baekhyun being unfriendly," Kyungsoo's voice is quiet, filled with embarrassment and regret. "And Chanyeol wanted to show us that he wasn't, I think? So he invited him to prove us wrong. It was dumb, really. We shouldn't have said that about him." 

It's enough for Baekhyun. Jongdae senses the immediate tension in his roommate, notices the way he curls in on himself. Fuck, he thinks, that's  _not_  what Kyungsoo was supposed to say. 

"Hang up, Jongdae. I told you." 

Jongdae makes a tiny noise into the phone before hanging up, fear leaping into his chest as he watches Baekhyun's shoulders shake. He's still facing away, but the small intake of breath and subsequent sniffle is too clear to ignore -- Baekhyun's crying. 

"Baek," he moves to kneel next to his bed, hand resting on the back of Baekhyun's shoulder. "I really don't think it's like  _that_." 

Baekhyun feels something inside him snap at the tone Jongdae's using, at how he feels pitied and belittled and  _used_. 

"You  _heard_  Kyungsoo! He invited me to prove his friends wrong! To show me off like some kind of toy!" Baekhyun's voice is cracking and there are hot tears rolling down his cheeks. "He didn't want to get close to me, he just wanted to see how far he could go in making a friendship with an unfriendly weirdo." 

"Baekhyun, stop," Jongdae sighs and opens his mouth again, but Baekhyun's voice is loud and angry and pointed at him in an instant.

" _You_  stop! You're the one who told him that! You're the one who confirmed that I was a fucking freak who needed someone to guard him -- you're the one who convinced me to teach him when it didn't make me comfortable. Don't act like you're innocent in this. If I hadn't agreed because of you, he would have never had the chance to lie to me and make me feel like _this_." 

Jongdae pulls his hand away as if he's been burned, hurt swimming in his eyes. 

"Baek --" 

"Can you just leave me alone?" Baekhyun hates the acidity of his voice, of the way Jongdae recoils from his bedside immediately.

But he can't stop thinking about Chanyeol's smile being fake, about the time he'd gotten ready because, really, he thought that party was like a date. He'd thought that Chanyeol's bloody nose and the starry look in his eyes that night had been real, that the happiness in his steps was because of how close their hands were to brushing each other, not because he'd won some fucking game by showcasing Baekhyun's insecurities to his friends. 

Then again, he thinks bitterly, he should've known. He should've realized that everything is always a game to Chanyeol, and that games exist only to be won -- the entire reason he'd started skating was to defend his team's honor in a ridiculous bet after all. 

Baekhyun knows he's crying again, knows that he's facing the wall and that Jongdae has disappeared out the door. He's alone, left to his thoughts and memories and nightmares, and suddenly he wishes that anyone was here with him, no matter the anger that he held for them. Worst of all, he finds himself wishing that Chanyeol's warm hands were on him, that a dark mop of hair was on the pillow next to his, deep voice talking about nothing. 

It's on his fourth daydream (this time of Chanyeol's laugh and how it rings through Baekhyun's ears like a melody) that he registers the sound of his phone chiming through his tears. He's been sobbing openly, heaving noises covering up any outside sounds, and Baekhyun is almost shocked at himself for being so numb to his surroundings. 

When he reads the name across the screen, though, he wishes he could be a little more numb. 

Six missed calls from Chanyeol later, Baekhyun forces a hand through his hair, combing it away from the snot and tears covering his face, determined to get out of this room before Chanyeol comes knocking.

He can't stand the thought of an oblivious Chanyeol asking him what's wrong with that face -- the one that Baekhyun believed was sincere, the one that Baekhyun still wants to trust. He can't stand the thought of Jongdae coming back and looking at him with guilty eyes, too scared to approach him. Mostly, he can't stand the thought of either boy knowing where he is.

It's halfway through the chilly walk to Jongin's dorm that Baekhyun realizes he might be what Kyungsoo and Sehun had assumed, that he might really be the fool he'd feared becoming.

\-- 

"He won't pick up. I went to his dorm and Jongdae said he hadn't been back in  _three_  days! I asked where he was, but Jongdae wouldn't tell me. I'm freaking out." 

Kyungsoo looks at his captain with worried eyes, something boiling under the surface that catches Chanyeol's attention. 

"Jongdae called me that day," Kyungsoo admits. "I told him that you invited Baekhyun to the party because you wanted to prove us wrong about him being weird. And then he hung up." 

Chanyeol buries his head in his hands at that, leaning so far into his knees that he looks as though he's folded over. It's pitiful, Kyungsoo thinks, and he's filled with dread and guilt. 

"I'm sorry, Chanyeol," his voice is sincere, punctuated with a soft hand on Chanyeol's head, ruffling his curly hair. "I didn't realize what he was asking about." 

"It's not your fault. I just wish I could  _see_  him." 

The pure desperation in his voice makes Kyungsoo's heart ache, makes guilt hit him like a tidal wave. 

"I can ask Jongin how he is," Kyungsoo suggests very quietly, as if he knows something he shouldn't. "Jongin sees him." 

Chanyeol's head is up again, searching Kyungsoo's eyes, verifying the validity of his words. It's not much, but there's something close to a small smile blooming over Chanyeol's lips. Kyungsoo matches him, smiling slightly, hoping that a picture or word from Jongin will settle the uneasiness in Chanyeol's heart for at least a day. 

"Jongin, he --" Chanyeol shakes his head. "He's special to you, right?" 

Kyungsoo looks taken aback, frightened. He shakes his head vehemently. Too eagerly, Chanyeol notes. Chanyeol's mind flits back to the scene in the rink that day, the way Kyungsoo had read and waited for Jongin, the smile on his face when they left together. How Kyungsoo glowed after seeing him -- how Kyungsoo's eyes lit up when he whispered Jongin's name only a minute ago.

"Well, if he  _is_  special to you," Chanyeol copies Kyungsoo's quiet tone. "Don't be stupid like me. You should tell him. Don't let something happen that leads to him isolating himself from you. It's fucking awful." 

Kyungsoo looks away instead of answering, cheeks bright red, shaking his head. 

"I'll ask about Baekhyun, okay? To make sure he's okay." 

Chanyeol seems to accept that this is as far as he'll be able to pry on the subject, that there's something with Jongin that Kyungsoo is too scared to talk about. It's cute, he thinks, but it's terrifying. It's the same way he'd felt the first few weeks of practice -- too giddy, too enthralled to put anything into words or emotions, too stupid to make things clear, too stupid to step forward first. 

"Thanks, Soo. It means the world right now." 

It's only after five days that he finally gets to hear about Baekhyun, though it's over text from Jongin. The messages are short, but they're enough to make Chanyeol feel a little sick in the stomach. 

 **from: jongin**    
 _hyung sleeps all day and cries at night. i keep trying to make him go out, but he says he doesn't want to._

**from: jongin**   
_he doesn't want to talk about anything._

_\--_

Baekhyun is in a haze. Everything kind of feels like a secondary thought, at least at the moment. Baekhyun focuses on his studies, on the notes he asks his classmates to send to him, on the books he's reading and essays he's writing. He's positive he's run through every single absence excuse he could possibly conjure up, is sure that both his professors and classmates are suspecting something is off. 

Some days are good. Jongin gets up early to go the rink, giving Baekhyun a pat on the cheek on the way out, sad eyes trailing over his friend for a minute. Baekhyun works hard and sleeps and avoids thinking of the tall boy who flits behind his eyelids as he drifts off.

Other days, Baekhyun is unfocused and too tired. He sleeps the day away, fighting through multiple nightmares, shaking and screaming and sweating until he's suddenly gasping for breath and the world is spinning back into reality. There's days spent reliving days in high school.

But there's also days spent inventing new nightmares, ones that hurt more acutely, if only because Baekhyun knows the hands pushing him down, recognizes the eyes that glare at him, feels familiar lips against his in ways that make him feel as though he's close to suffocating. 

\--  

**from: chanyeol**   
_Baekhyun, are you okay? Just text me back so I know you're okay. I'm sorry._

**from: chanyeol**   
_Pyschology is lonely without you._

**from: chanyeol**   
_Can you tell me where you are? I'm so worried and Jongdae is barely sleeping._

**from: chanyeol**   
_Please respond. Let me know you're okay._

**from: chanyeol**   
_I miss you._

_\--_

"Baekhyun, I think you should go outside for a little bit. It's been awhile since you went to the rink. Come with me?"

The smaller looks as if this is  _not_  an ideal plan, but for some reason Jongin isn't taking no for an answer today. Despite his protests, the taller forces his friend into a standing position, pushes him toward the bathroom, urges him to clean up and get ready to face sunlight. 

He has to admit that washing his face and brushing his teeth helps to clean his mental state as well. But with a newly refreshed mind, Baekhyun also realizes just how insistent Jongin is being; he's certain there's no getting out of this trip.

He knows it's for the best -- Jongin has let him wallow in tears and pity for days, has let him focus on schoolwork instead of the turmoil inside. But that's over now, Baekhyun concludes. 

"Jongin, I really don't know --" 

"Please? You need to go for a walk and see the rink. It'll help you," Jongin's wrapping a scarf around Baekhyun's neck with a smile, hands moving to pinch his cheeks. "I promise!" 

The sheer familiarity in Jongin's voice and actions leads him to follow the taller. Even if the rink feels raw and painful right now, Jongin is right -- Baekhyun heals himself on the ice, uses skating as an outlet for the fear building up. Avoiding it is only hurting him more, he's sure. 

"Okay, okay," Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up at the pure joy in Jongin's subsequent cheek pinch. "I'm going, I'm going." 

Wrapped in Jongin's unfamiliar coat and scarf, Baekhyun feels like he's wearing armor of some sort, like the world can't hurt him. Even though he's messed everything up royally with Jongdae and he's terrified to run into Chanyeol, breathing in fresh air feels  _good_. The cold turns the tip of his nose red, but he doesn't mind, not when he thinks about the alternative, about the unnatural sedation that's been flowing through his veins lately, about the cold sweat that holds him captive at night. 

The rink really is home, Baekhyun decides, when he's pushing the door open. It's peace and war and silence and music all at once. It's the clash of Baekhyun's boiling emotions and icy exterior, the sound of vicious yelling and joyful laughter, the crash of waves and the wind whipping through mountains. It's everything Baekhyun needs when he's feeling like this. 

His elation turns to confusion as soon as the door is fully open, however, because he's met with the sight of twenty boys on the ice -- makeshift skaters with bad form and hockey sticks and loud voices. He recognizes one in particular, feels his heart stop when he turns to look at him, too.

Jongin -- the  _fucking idiot,_ Baekhyun laments -- had dragged him to the hockey game, to the place he knew Chanyeol would be. Specifically, he'd dragged Baekhyun here to wake him up. 

And as Chanyeol frantically skates away from his team and toward the pair by the entrance, Baekhyun can't remember a time when he's felt more awake. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry!   
> Also, I'd like to thank every deity in the entire world for elyxion dot. im blessed. 
> 
> twitter: @baekyalls  
> curiouscat: curiouscat.me/baekyall


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the wait! i explain a little more in the bottom notes! love you guys!

"Jongin, I can't  _do_  this," Baekhyun's voice is frantic and muffled against the fabric of his friend's shirt. He's huddled against the taller, heartbeat picking up astronomically. 

There's a sense of urgency in his voice that makes Jongin look down in apology, suddenly seeming to realize the situation he's put his friend in. Baekhyun's hands are shaking at the thought of confronting Chanyeol in such a public setting, at the thought of what he should say to the tall boy at all. He's still running toward them full speed, albeit rather clumsily because of the skates strapped to his feet, and each step makes Baekhyun's throat close a little more.

"Baekhyun," Chanyeol is out of breath and sweaty, obviously distressed.

Baekhyun hates the way his stomach flips at the sight of him, the way his fingers itch to reach out and brush a strand of hair off of his forehead. Most of all, he hates the blossom of warmth that settles in his stomach, the seed of hope that sprouts at the sight of the taller boy -- he hates that his body is reacting in ways his heart doesn't condone.

The eyes of the other boys are burning holes into Baekhyun's already clammy skin, and he's acutely aware of how dizzy he's feeling -- luckily, so is Jongin, and he's pushed back toward the door by familiar hands. There's a tiny bit more distance between him and the tallest boy now, but it's not enough, not when Chanyeol's eyes darken with worry and his lips part. 

"Can we talk?" Chanyeol's voice is so sweet, so quiet. Baekhyun hates that he trusts it, that he doesn't want to say no. "I really need to explain things." 

He searches Chanyeol's face for any sign of malice, for a trace of what he'd so been fearing these last days. Instead of any semblance of mocking, though, Baekhyun is only met with red cheeks and watery eyes. Jongin's nudging him with his shoulder ever so slightly, as if he's urging him to give it a try, as if Baekhyun isn't about to pass out from the thought of this many people knowing that he's vulnerable around Chanyeol, that there's reasons for the taller to run to him. 

"You need to play," Baekhyun's voice is hoarse.

Chanyeol shakes his head, no, vehemently, "I don't need to. I _need_ to talk to you." 

Jongin stops pushing him, seemingly shocked at this, too. There's a moment of silence that feels too thick -- Baekhyun isn't sure he's breathing. Everyone on the ice is completely quiet, intently listening for Baekhyun's response, all stunned at the captain of the football team dismissing a chance to win a bet and make his team proud. There's a moment of prolonged eye contact between the pair before Baekhyun nods slowly, full of uncertainty, too out of it to do much more than watch as Chanyeol's eyes light up.

Chanyeol's untying skates and shimmying out of them at break neck speed, seemingly trying to move quickly so that Baekhyun can't change his mind. He's left in socks in only a few seconds, and then he's there, curly hair and soft cheeks only inches from Baekhyun, a hand gently reaching toward the smaller. He's slow about it, making sure that Baekhyun can see it at all times, making sure that Baekhyun doesn't flinch. The smaller is having trouble processing their proximity and the stares of the other jocks -- he has no time to think about what Chanyeol is doing, not until there's a gentle hand wrapped around his forearm, tugging him toward the door. 

Suddenly, he's unlatched from Jongin's shoulder and thrown into the cold wind, Chanyeol's warm hand the only anchor holding him between confused states of consciousness that are taking over. He wants to be mad, wants to scream at Chanyeol and cry, but there's something so calming about the taller's presence -- he can't help but watch those dark eyes flit back and forth and study the pulsing nervousness traveling between them. 

"I'm sorry," Chanyeol says plainly, voice deep and a little scratchy. He drops Baekhyun's forearm reluctantly. "I didn't mean for anything to come off the way it did. I didn't take you to the party to make fun of you -- I just wanted my friends to like you like I like you. I wanted them to know that you're funny and kind and talented, nothing like what they assumed." 

Baekhyun feels a little nauseous at the wording, at the sincerity in Chanyeol's voice and facial expression. _Like I_ _like you_ , he mills it over and over, let's the words tumble through his head. There's a tug of doubt telling him not to listen, but a larger pull of trust, one that looks into Chanyeol's eyes and thinks about laughing together, cuddling together, eating together. 

"What about that guy who tried to hit me? Did you plan it?" Baekhyun feels paranoid, but there's been worse things done to him before, more manipulative tricks pulled on him than he can count. "Did you want me to think you were some great guy and trust you? You wanted to befriend the weirdo?" 

He's teetering off the edge, he knows it, and the regret that spreads across Chanyeol's face is evident. His stomach drops at his bluntness, at the agony of waiting for a response to his accusing question 

" _No,_ " Chanyeol's obviously surprised at this, distraught at a possibility that he'd never before considered. "I wanted you to come to the party, and I wanted you to have a good time. I didn't want you to get hurt. I wouldn't ask anyone to do that." 

Baekhyun looks away, focuses on the way leaves are crumbling from trees around them, on the way the wind curls around the grass. He thinks he might cry thinking about Chanyeol's bloodied face, about the way they'd almost held hands that night, about the way Baekhyun's heart had finally felt calm. 

Chanyeol coughs to get the shorter's attention. "Jongdae asked me to make sure no one was mean to you. He said that you had bad experiences with guys like me and my friends, and that I shouldn't be an asshole. I just wanted to keep you safe; I always have." 

Baekhyun's eyebrows raise, heart leaping at the twinge of grief in Chanyeol's voice.

"Why did you tell my junior about it? Why did you never tell  _me_  about it?" 

"She asked about our relationship, and I said that Jongdae reached out to me -- that's all," his voice cracks. "I never told you because it didn't matter. I wanted to keep you safe whether Jongdae had asked or not. I didn't want you to ever get hurt; that was my own decision." 

They fall into momentary silence, every word seeming to harsh but not harsh enough, each emotion spilling out in ways that can't be articulated. There's a lot Baekhyun wants to ask, wants to scream about, but only so many things he thinks he'll be able to truly handle the answer to. He watches Chanyeol twiddle his thumbs, knows that there's too many things left unspoken between them, so he musters up his courage, ignoring the pounding of his heart and spinning of his head.

"Why do you treat me like that?" Chanyeol looks confused, eyebrows scrunching together and lips turning into a frown. "Why are you so nice?"

"Because I like you," Chanyeol says it so simply, as if it's a matter of fact, as if it doesn't make Baekhyun's stomach turn and lips shake. 

"You don't have to like me," Baekhyun's trembling. "Jongdae never said you have to like me. It's okay to just be student and teacher, you know." 

It's not okay, Baekhyun reminds himself, he's been avoiding Chanyeol all week because he desperately wants Chanyeol to feel for him as something other than a skating instructor, than an antisocial kid to hang out with on the weeknights. 

"Baekhyun, you're not understanding -- I  _like_  you." 

 _Oh._ Oh. All those times Baekhyun had iniated kisses and felt the boy eagerly kiss back, all those times he'd felt Chanyeol's stare on him -- it hadn't been a teasing crush or admiration. But what if it had? What if Chanyeol was playing his games all over again, making him seem wholesome and kind and the type of person Baekhyun wants to hold close and never let go? 

The look in Chanyeol's eyes is undescribable, a mix of fear and confidence, cheeks so red they look painful and dimple peeking through in hope. It sends a thrill racing through Baekhyun's blood, but then he reminds himself to stay grounded, to keep asking questions, to clear the air. But Chanyeol is walking a step closer before he can ask another question, closing the gap between them ever so slightly. 

He's only a few inches away, still cautious, but so soft, so hopeful that it makes Baekhyun's entire body heat up. 

"I like you," Chanyeol smiles his familiar smile, dimple making a brief, beautiful appearance. "I've thought that for awhile. I didn't think I'd actually say it -- I thought you'd just figure it out." 

Their closeness is too sudden, the thought of Chanyeol pining after him so foreign and unbelievable that his mind goes concave on itself, falling into a mess of panic and paranoia and fear. Chanyeol senses the shift in the atmosphere, features softening and hands reaching up tentatively.

"It's not funny," Baekhyun knows that his lips are trembling from his effort to hold back hot tears. "It's really not funny." 

"Baekhyun \--" 

"It's  _not_  funny! You're one of the first people I've let in since high school, and now you're standing there and laughing at me and saying you  _like_  me! You know that's unfair! You know it's mean! Stop it!" There are definitely tears streaming down his face by now, all the emotional distress of the last few days coming back in full force. "Stop acting like I'm some toy you can take care of and support and make like you! You know how much I trusted you, how much I wanted you to be there, how much it hurts me when I find out that you've kept things from me." 

Chanyeol's moving closer, large hands moving to wrap around Baekhyun's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. It's the wrong move, he realizes, as Baekhyun pushes him away roughly, hands shaking with anger, pained cries piercing the air. 

"You can't  _do_  that! You know I trust you enough to let you hold me, so don't do that. Don't take advantage of it. If I want to scream and cry, let me! Fuck, Chanyeol, _stop it_!" 

Chanyeol's taken aback, arms still hanging in the air, now pushed back several feet from the shorter boy. He moves his hands slowly up to comb through his hair in frustration and regret, the sight of Baekhyun crying and screaming for him to stop too much to bear. It feels like he's one of those guys that tormented Baekhyun in high school, the ones who never listened to him, the ones who belitted him and wouldn't leave him be. It feels like he's hurting Baekhyun despite his best efforts, and that's more painful than any of his injuries, he thinks.

"I'm sorry," Chanyeol knows he's crying too, but it doesn't matter, not when Baekhyun is still heaving a few feet away from him. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm so sorry. I just like you, Baekhyun, that's all. I really do." 

Baekhyun's sobs intensify at these words, and the emotions coursing through the air is leaving everything electrified. It's chaotic and overwhelming and heartbreaking, all too much for Chanyeol to bear watching without being able to help. 

"I'll just tell you a story until you calm down, okay?" Chanyeol sits on the ground, defeated, hoping that the exhaustion and lingering fear doesn't seep through too evidently in his voice. "It's a story about you." 

Baekhyun's cries quiet for a moment -- he's gasping for air, Chanyeol belatedly notices -- and the taller takes the opportunity to fill the silence. 

"One day, I came in to learn how to skate. And there was this  _guy_  -- he was confident and talented and so beautiful, and he made fun of my outfit," Chanyeol stops to gauge the word's effects on Baekhyun. The skater seems to be listening, or at least that's what he hopes. "And we had a class together. And the way he sat and stared at the board was so cute -- he'd always have his mouth a little open, and he'd try to avoid eye contact with me. I wanted to know more about him." 

Baekhyun stills when he hears about his persona in class, when he comprehends just how closely Chanyeol had been watching him even outside of practice.

"He has a lot of moles, but there's one in the corner of his lip that disappears when he smiles, and it's my favorite. And his laugh is so pretty -- it sounds like bells ringing, and his eyes sparkle a little," Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders casually to relieve tension, as if this information is common knowledge. "And he's so soft. His hands are soft, his hair is soft, his voice is soft. When we fell asleep in the same bed, he was so warm and tiny. His waist is so thin, but he's strong -- super strong. He has muscles and abs, but he's still so small against me. And the way he kisses is slow and sweet and unexpected -- kissing him feels like I'm doing something _right_." 

Baekhyun's silent, though his throat is bobbing as he holds back any more tears that he has left. He's watching Chanyeol with watery eyes, full of wonder and a dash of confusion, swimming with questions and confessions. 

"And I screwed up really badly. I didn't tell him things. I acted like I didn't like him so  _much_ , because I was scared to have feelings out in the open. My friends kept telling me to get a grip and tell him already, but I didn't think I would have to. I assumed he would notice, and that one day it would change. We'd hold hands walking to class, we'd go to each other's competitions. I thought it'd be natural like before -- we'd watch movies together and critique them and fall asleep in each other's arms. I thought it would be easy, and I thought he already knew." 

Baekhyun shakes his head softly in response, moving toward the taller boy seated on the ground. He's inching toward him, something unreadable across his face, every fiber of his being shaking with an unknown emotion. Chanyeol has hopes for what it is, but there's nothing confirmed, not until he finally voices what he'd figured out so many weeks ago. 

"But he didn't already figure it out, so I'm telling him," they're closer, so close that the smaller is crossing his eyes to maintain eye contact, cheeks bright red. "Baekhyun, I  _like_  you. A lot. Maybe even more than like. I just know that everything you do makes me happy, that every time I can make you smile, it feels like a rush of adrenaline, that there's no one else that makes me feel how you do." 

"You're not joking?" Baekhyun's voice is barely a whisper, breathy and full of confusion. "You want to hold me? I make you feel that happy? It's real?" 

Chanyeol closes his eyes and hopes for a better response than the last time he'd reached out for the smaller, leaning forward ever so slightly to meet Baekhyun's lips in the middle. The sound of shock that Baekhyun makes sends blood rushing through every cell of Chanyeol's body, his hair on end. It's surprised but not displeased, something that makes both of their hearts quicken.

"I'm not joking; I was never joking," Chanyeol whispers it against his lips, relishes in the way Baekhyun follows each syllable with his own. "I couldn't joke about you." 

Baekhyun moves forward again, this time placing himself even closer so that their legs are touching. It's a new wave of emotions for the both of them, and there are hands moving to softly trace the outlines of the other's face, to wind into curls, to settle a hand on a lithe waist. 

Lips move in sync, languidly, and suddenly nothing else matters but the way that Baekhyun crawls to fit in Chanyeol's lap, to the way they're melded together, to the way they've blocked out the chilly wind and salty tears. 

"I like you too," Baekhyun smiles against Chanyeol's lips, ignoring the tears of relief springing to his eyes. "I like you so much." 

They meet again, this time a little more hurriedly, as if they're realizing that the other is truly theirs, that the unspoken affection between them is out in the open, blooming and blossoming into gentle touches and sweet laughter against each other's lips. 

Long moments tick by, seconds full of caresses and their first real exploration of each other, until they suddenly are awoken from their stupor by the sound of laughter and chants, by the sound of twenty boys only a few feet away. They are sitting on the ground, they realize, only ten feet from the door to the rink. Baekhyun feels as though his cheeks might actually catch fire, jumping off of the taller boy instantly when his eyes connect with Sehun's delighted ones. 

Chanyeol spins around from his seat on the ground to face the crowd gathering near the door, eyes widening and mouth sputtering. There's a certain type of embarrassment embedded in this situation, one that's particularly awful, and he can't think of a time when he's felt such horror so acutely. He stumbles to stand up, though he fears that he looks disheveled from the combination of crying and kissing fervently.

"You guys figure things out?" Jongin's voice is teasing and high-pitched, pointed directly toward Baekhyun. The skater rolls his eyes and moves to stand behind Chanyeol, if only to conceal the blush creeping up his neck and ears, to hide from the prying eyes of all the boys -- they still make him nervous, but he knows that Chanyeol is there, and that makes everything a little bit more okay.

At this, Kyungsoo moves to elbow Jongin, a harsh "leave them alone!" slipping out. Jongin only laughs, turning to Sehun this time, sure of their relationship as allies in making fun of the newly formed pair. 

"Are you going to play hockey, or?" Sehun's voice is sugary sweet, laced with mocking. When his captain doesn't respond immediately, he jumps on another joke to embarrass him with. "I'm sure  _that_  adrenaline rush will help you out." 

The crowd dissolves into laughter, and Chanyeol ignores it in favor of turning to the boy behind him, eyebrows raised, "Do you want to watch me? I know it's been a long day, I understand if you just want to --"

"I'll watch," Baekhyun agrees readily, mentally preparing to put himself in a situation where so many boys are present, where he can try his best to keep calm and watch the only person that matters to him in that rink. "I think I should try to get used to, you know, being around your friends --"

This is a rather romantic, intimate statement for the taller, apparently. Baekhyun only realizes the effect his words have when he's pulled into a very sudden and very brief kiss. The boys roar, and Baekhyun flinches a litltle unintentionally. 

"You don't have to. I know it's not what you're comfortable with." 

"I spent so long training you not to fall on your ass," Baekhyun smiles a tiny smile, refraining from rubbing his nose against Chanyeol's; he can't egg the watchers on. "Of course I need to see if you do well." 

Chanyeol nods back, eyes shining with pride and joy and maybe a little bit of love, Baekhyun speculates. But it's too early for that, he knows, and it's too early to think about the way Chanyeol's eyes melt the nerves building in his stomach. 

The hockey game is a blur of untalented boys falling and laughing and screaming -- Chanyeol's team wins, but only because someone from the basketball team scores on the wrong net. It's chaos, but Baekhyun finds his heart swelling when he sees Chanyeol fumbling around and bumping into people, a smile evident on his face, curly hair and big ears peeking out of his helmet in the most endearing way possible. 

He registers that the entire football erupts into cheers at their victory, but his brain is focused on the fact that Chanyeol's eyes never leave him, even as his team surrounds him to chant together. The way Chanyeol pulls him into a hug and hungrily kisses him in the locker room only minutes later leaves Baekhyun breathless, too caught up in the way Chanyeol's hands hold him to worry about the group of guys just outside the door, to fear what their relationship will hold. As long as Chanyeol is there, Baekhyun is fairly certain that he'll find a way to calm his heartbeat when he wakes up from a nightmare, to fight back terrifying thoughts and fall back asleep.

\--

"I'm sorry," Baekhyun hopes that he sounds as sincere as he is, too scared to look up and meet the boy's eyes. There's no way for him to do this without feeling like a complete and utter asshole, so he bears it, adding, "I shouldn't have accused you of that. I know you just wanted the best for me." 

Jongdae doesn't respond. Instead, he launches forward to pull Baekhyun into a hug, arms tightly wound around him as a way to show his affection. He's rocking them from side to side, swaying in the middle of their room. 

"Thank goodness. I thought you hated me," he admits pitifully, but then he's laughing against Baekhyun's shoulder softly as if they'd never fought. "I heard you worked everything out with Park? You decided to forgive me as long as you're getting dick?" 

Baekhyun sputters, pushing his best friend away, too mortified to respond properly. " _Jongdae!_ " 

"I'm not  _wrong,_ " Jongdae moves to brush a strand of hair out of Baekhyun's eyes softly, a gentle show of what he's truly feeling underneath his joking exterior. "Anyways, I'm glad you're okay. I wasn't mad at you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I told Chanyeol." 

There's an unspoken, understood forgiveness that permeates the air. It makes Baekhyun's throat close a tiny bit, makes him take a deep breath to keep from tearing up -- but it's hard when he thinks about Jongdae. He's always been  _there_ , and he'd left him with no news of his whereabouts for days, had abandoned him because he was too scared to face up to the questions he'd wanted to ask Chanyeol.

"I missed you a lot," Baekhyun admits quietly, moving to sit on his bed. It's been days since he'd had been back at his dorm, and there's a sense of familiarity that makes his heart ache when he thinks about this room, about Jongdae spending nights alone in it.

"I missed you, too. You know that already." 

\--

It's date night -- as Chanyeol insists they call it,  even though it's only their second -- and they're watching a movie in Baekhyun's dorm. They hadn't discussed what they were officially, but Baekhyun knows that they eat together almost daily, that Chanyeol insists on sleeping over and cuddling when it storms. He knows that they've discovered how they like to kiss in different situations, that they've figured out how to decide where to eat, that Chanyeol likes to wake him up with kisses on the cheeks. 

"Pizza or pasta?" Chanyeol's voice rings out. He's somewhere in Baekhyun's closet, looking for cozy socks to put on since his feet had apparently frozen on the walk over. There's the sound of something banging and then finally smashing against the ground, and Baekhyun is about to be worried, but then he hears Chanyeol quietly tell the fallen item, "Sorry" and his worry is gone. 

"Pasta." 

Baekhyun is busy putting the movie into his laptop (trying his very best to not laugh at Chanyeol's poor film taste) when the taller comes running back into the room (feet fuzzy) and hops into bed, dimple fully on display. It's how he always is -- happy and soft and cuddly -- and Baekhyun sighs and lies down too, ignoring the movie for a brief moment, preferring to shimmy into Chanyeol's outstretched arms. 

They're wrapped up together like a tangle of limbs, and Baekhyun isn't quite sure where either of them starts or ends, but it's okay, he notes, he likes it. Somehow Chanyeol is ordering takeout on his phone and still scratching Baekhyun's back lightly, but the shorter isn't complaining. He sighs into the crook of Chanyeol's neck, letting himself drift off into drowsy territory, mind soothed by the familiar scent of the taller's cologne and the soft tapping of smartphone keyboard. 

He's drawn out of it rather abruptly, however, when Chanyeol's deep voice vibrates next to his ear. 

"Do you want to meet my parents? They want you to come home for Christmas." 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK. i truly will try to update sooner since I finally am getting the hang of college and have a definite work schedule for my two (yes, two) jobs lol 
> 
> hope this was decent!!! i stayed up late to write it so it honestly might be loopy idek . 
> 
> i love you all so much! thank you for the support and for waiting this long. it truly does mean the world to me. goodnight i adore you all! 
> 
> twitter: baekyalls  
> aff: baekyall  
> curiouscat: curiouscat.me/baekyall
> 
> <3


	12. twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the mini wait! hope it lives up to expectations! <3 (warning: slightly sexy situations in this chapter lol)

The offer weighs on Baekhyun’s mind for the entire week following Chanyeol’s holiday plan proposal. Luckily for him, he has even more pressing matters to focus on -- finals. For hours upon hours, he pours over books in the library and in his dorm, too focused on the study guides and the essays he still needs to finish to worry about whether he'll be sitting around the dinner table with Chanyeol's entire family in less than a week.

With the realization that classes are ending for the semester also came the realization that balancing work and relationships is _difficult_. Baekhyun had only actually gotten to see Chanyeol -- his boyfriend, his brain reminds him, a fluttering feeling spreading across his chest -- once or twice. They weren't formal dates to say the least; the pair met mostly to greet each other, share a meal, and then cuddle and catch up on much needed sleep.

Jongdae, of course, doesn’t flinch when he realizes that finals are fast approaching. To him, school is easy, even though he barely tries at all (Baekhyun knows for a fact that his roommate has only come home before midnight twice in the last week.) It irks Baekhyun beyond belief, but he ignores how naturally intelligent his dumbass friend truly is, favoring thinking about how many more hours of work he has until he can relax. Looking down at the pile of books and notes that are steadily accumulating on his table, though, he fears he might never leave the university library. 

“Can I sit here?” the voice is deep and semi-familiar, but still too new in a way that sends Baekhyun’s head snapping up to search for a face. Wide eyes and a tiny smile greet him, the boy's dark green sweater allowing him to blend in to the earthy color scheme of the library surrounding them. It's Kyungsoo -- Baekhyun belatedly makes this connection -- and he's scrambling to nod a yes, scared to make the shorter boy wait too long for a response. 

"Of course," Baekhyun smiles. He hopes it looks genuine, hopes that Kyungsoo can't sense how intimidated he truly is by the shorter. There's an air surrounding him that sets Baekhyun's nerves alight, despite Jongin's fondness, despite his friendship with Chanyeol. He thinks it's his intense gaze, the way he holds himself, or maybe the thought of what he'd said about Baekhyun in the past, but it leaves the skater balling his fists, anxiety-ridden. 

"Studying for finals?" Kyungsoo's whispering, per the library's rules, and it kind of calms Baekhyun down. He notices that the boy is a little fidgety, a little uncomfortable in this situation, too, and he lets his fists unclench. Breathe, breathe, breathe. 

"Writing papers and studying for exams," Baekhyun shrugs, trying not to let the stress this last week has thrown him show on his face. Maybe if he lies, he'll believe what he's saying, too. "Business and econ aren't too bad. Just tiring."  

Kyungsoo genuinely smiles at that, a soft quirk of his lips telling Baekhyun that maybe this is okay, that maybe he should calm down for a second. His mind flits to the first few times he'd met Chanyeol, to the panic that Chanyeol's voice so quickly subdued, to the way that the taller's presence made him nervous in the best way he could think of. If he could survive that, he can survive studying with Kyungsoo, no matter how intimidating his facial expressions are. 

"I can't complain. Most of my finals are more practicals, since I'm in the college of fine arts," Kyungsoo's lips twitch with a smile, as if it's something he's quietly proud of.

Baekhyun feels completely astounded -- never had he imagined that Kyungsoo would be majoring in performance of any kind. But, looking at the way Kyungsoo's eyes are shining after bringing it up, he realizes that maybe there's a lot to the shorter that he'd assumed. 

"Oh, there you are," Jongin's voice is loud and happy and it disturbs the sense of peace that's pooled in this corner of the library, sending waves crashing against bookshelves and other students. Needless to say, he earns a few dirty looks -- though Jongin pays it no mind as he makes himself comfortable next to Kyungsoo, eyes inquisitive and focused on the shorter only. 

"How's your head?" Jongin asks, lips pursing. He reaches out and feel's Kyungsoo's forehead. Baekhyun thinks he might be imagining this spectacle, but a pinch on his wrist confirms that Kyungsoo really _is_  being babied by Jongin, that Kyungsoo is blushing right now. 

"I told you it's fine," Kyungsoo's cheeks are a sickly red now, and if Baekhyun didn't know better, he'd fear that the boy had come down with a fever in the last minute. "Stop." 

Jongin rolls his eyes and removes his hand, refusing to spare Kyungsoo another glance (out of spite, not lack of affection, Baekhyun guesses.) 

"How are you, Baekhyun? Studying?" Jongin's voice is saccharine and soft, cheeks plump with an overly kind smile. "Hopefully not catching a cold and refusing to let yourself rest like  _some_  people? Because that would make everyone worry, of course." 

Baekhyun knows it's inappropriate to butt into their argument, but, god, Jongin's throwing him in the middle of it. And it's so ridiculous, he thinks, to use _him_  to get a point across -- it reminds him of his parents and their bickering. He lets a laugh slip out and then immediately regrets it, fearing that he's fractured the small bond he'd formed with Kyungsoo in these sacred library moments by giggling at Jongin's actions. He's saved from seeing whether or not Kyungsoo hates him now, however, by an incoming call. 

"Hello?" Baekhyun makes sure that his voice sounds good, not too rough or scratchy, and swallows the rush of adrenaline the caller ID had triggered. 

"Baekhyun! Want to order a pizza tonight?" Chanyeol's voice is deafeningly loud and out of breath, as if he's been running. After a second, it drops to a shy whisper. "I miss you." 

He's positive that his cheeks are blazing with heat, and he tries to take a breath before he answers. "I have a study session tonight until really late. I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow night?" 

Chanyeol's end goes silent for a minute, and then he's back, just as loud as before. "Okay, that's okay, it's okay. We can try tomorrow night! I have to go pick up forms for something tomorrow! Study hard! Miss you so much! Mwah!" 

The line goes dead and Baekhyun"s left staring at the hearts that surround his boyfriend's contact name, disappointment and the sound of Chanyeol loudly kissing the phone ringing through his mind.

Something felt off about the call, and he's a little worried, but then he thinks about Chanyeol's warm hands holding his and soft lips smiling against his. It's okay, just like Chanyeol had said, it's all okay. Deep down, he's aware that it's just his lack of sleep getting to him. 

He's completely forgotten the pair next to him, too lost in his own thoughts of when he'll see Chanyeol next and why he feels so vacant right now, when the taller of the two makes a sound akin to a cough. 

"Chanyeol?" 

Baekhyun tries to ignore the pang in his heart at the thought of letting Chanyeol down, of keeping him waiting about Christmas, of sounding calm and composed on the phone while his boyfriend is yelling and confessing his emotions. He's just not sure he can be excitable and pure, not the way Chanyeol can, and he suddenly wants to quit studying and go home for a nap with the latter. 

"I feel awful," Baekhyun sighs at the highlighted pages in front of him. "He was so  _happy_ , and I shot him down so quick. We haven't seen in each other in days." 

Baekhyun feels his phone buzzing and notices that Chanyeol has sent him a picture full of hearts, this time plastered over the image of a dog drinking juice -- the carton, however, has been edited to read "Loving Baekhyun Juice." There's no text from the taller along with it, and the absurdity and pure endearing tone of the entire message makes him smile and blush all over again. Somehow, something as dumb as this makes the knot in his stomach loosen and anxiety lessen. Chanyeol knows his mind too well, he's convinced, and he suppresses a giddy smile.

 **to: chanyeol**  
_don't drink too much! save room for pizza tomorrow!_

 **to: chanyeol**  
_p.s. i miss you more._

"He's so _Chanyeol_ ," Baekhyun knows he sounds overly lovestruck to the others, but he can't find a reason to care, not when he sees the amount of heart emojis Chanyeol sends in response.

"Is he texting you?" Kyungsoo sounds shocked. "He has a practical exam in less than an hour. And another one tomorrow. He told me not to bother him since he'll be reviewing everything before he has to cut anything open." 

Jongin guffaws, and Baekhyun stills -- he hadn't realized that he had surgeries coming up that were so important. Chanyeol had mentioned that he'd have to operate in order to pass some of his veterinary classes, but he'd never specified that it was  _right now._

"You're not on the same level as Baekhyun, I guess," Jongin's voice is teasing, though there's a soft undercurrent running through each word. "Especially because Baekhyun takes care of his health. Here, at least take some fever reliever. _Please_." 

Kyungsoo whines something back and Jongin busies himself with forcing a water bottle on the shorter. All the while, Baekhyun tries his best to continue annotating the contract in front of him, though there's a reminder that Chanyeol puts him first in every situation glowing in the back of his mind, illuminating his cheeks and turning his stomach warm. 

\--

This side of campus is pretty, Baekhyun thinks absentmindedly, too preoccupied with searching for a certain tall boy. He'd never gone near the university hospital or any of the medical buildings surrounding it, so he's pleasantly astounded by the sheer number of trees that line the street. For some reason, he'd assumed that the edge of campus lacked some of the appeal that the older, more centrally located colleges did, but this proved him wrong.

Just as he's noticing an astoundingly green evergreen nearby, there's a flash of curly black hair leaving the veteranary sciences building -- he's not completely sure that it's Chanyeol, but then he sees gangly arms and an oversized hoodie.

That's definitely Chanyeol, and he's definitely wearing the big purple hoodie that Baekhyun likes so much (he'd tried to steal it less than a week ago, but that's besides the point.) Baekhyun makes sure to steady the cup in his hand before scurrying toward the taller boy. 

"Surprise!" 

Chanyeol jumps, thoroughly scared, and clutches his chest desperately, gasping for breath in a way that Baekhyun thinks it's melodramatic if not adorable. He looks around, paranoid, only relaxing as his eyes settle on the familiar figure that snuck up on him.

"Baekhyun," Chanyeol's eyes light up and he's smiling so hard that his dimple appears. Baekhyun's stomach tightens. "What are you doing here? I just finished my exam. I had to operate on a rabbit -- I'm devastated." 

Baekhyun wonders if his nose and cheeks are as pink as Chanyeol's, if he looks as angelic as the taller does right now, hair blowing in the frigid wind and warmth crackling in his eyes.

"I got you some Baekhyun Loving Juice," he feels dumb saying it, but the roaring laugh that Chanyeol lets out makes it all worth it. He's lunging forward to softly hit Baekhyun's shoulder, richoc "Here you go." 

Baekhyun Loving Juice, apparently, is a strawberry smoothie -- mainly because the café nearest Baekhyun's dorm was the only thing open this early in the morning, and, more importantly, because Chanyeol likes sweet things.

He holds the cup out for the taller to take, their eyes meeting for a split second. Baekhyun's hands are cold from holding it in the chilly weather and waiting for Chanyeol, fingers shaking slightly as Chanyeol takes the drink from him. The taller immediately reaches his other hand out to take Baekhyun's in his, stuffing both in the pocket of his giant hoodie.

Hands melded together, Baekhyun shuffles closer to the taller and lets their bodies brush together ever so slightly, just like the time they'd been so close in Baekhyun's room watching a movie, too scared to move an inch for fear of disrupting this tiny endearment from seeping through their connected shoulders. 

"This is a really good smoothie," Chanyeol notes, voice soft and a little tired. "I mean -- juice. You get what I'm talking about." 

Baekhyun does, and so he tenderly moves to rest his head on Chanyeol's shoulder, burrowing into the warmth stored there, nodding the entire time. 

"Want to go nap?" 

Baekhyun smiles against the shoulder, breathing in the scent of Chanyeol's cologne, memorizing the way the taller's breath fans out against his scalp. There's a faint scent of strawberries settling over them, and Baekhyun likes the way it mingles with Chanyeol's shampoo, likes the way their hands are now warm in Chanyeol's hoodie. 

"Yes, please," Baekhyun ends his response with a tiny kiss to Chanyeol's shoulder, adoring the way Chanyeol shudders as he does it.

Even more than that, he likes the way Chanyeol tastes like strawberries when he kisses the shorter in response, lips cold but soft, movements unhurried and searing.

"Oh, also," Baekhyun's heart is thrumming against his chest, lips only inches away from the taller. "I think Christmas would be fun." 

\-- 

Chanyeol's house is just like Chanyeol himself -- warm and big and comforting. It's filled to the brim with family pictures and (bordering on) tacky knicknacks, something Baekhyun finds extremely odd compared to his quiet experience growing up, to the minimalistic walls and hushed voices that raised him, to the silence that greeted him after late nights at the rink. 

The house is void of people, since it's a weekday and everyone is at work, but that doesn't stop Chanyeol's tiny dog from bounding up to them, excitedly yapping and licking anything and everything he can. Baekhyun thinks it's almost comical how much the small dog is reminiscent of Chanyeol himself, bright eyes and floppy hair and sociable nature included. 

"Toben, did you miss me?" Chanyeol's voice is high pitched and sugary sweet. "This is Baekhyun! Say hi!" 

There's only barks in response, and Baekhyun smiles as the dog scrambles around their feet, trying its very best to garner the attention of the two boys in front of it. 

"That's my baby, Toben," Chanyeol explains, a smile ever-present on his face while he's home. "I'm the baby of the family, and he's my baby. It's a stable hierarchy." 

Baekhyun scoffs and continues to meander around the green and gray accented living room, examing each picture of Chanyeol and family, searching for familiarities in each version of Chanyeol's younger self. He's a cute baby, Baekhyun has decided, and an even cuter toddler, although Baekhyun makes a point to tease Chanyeol that his formative teenage years leave a little to be desired.

Not that Baekhyun wouldn't have had a crush on him -- with Chanyeol's personality and smile, he knows he would have -- but it's increasingly amusing to watch Chanyeol blush and squirm until his ears go red, embarrassment evident. It's endearing, Baekhyun realizes, to look at the person he cares so much for through the lens of a snapshot, through a single captured moment in the past.

"You've always been cute," Baekhyun savors the way Chanyeol averts his eyes, faking a focus on the dog. "Did you date a lot of people in high school?" 

Chanyeol coughs and shakes his head vehemently, eyes astronomically wide. Then Toben is jumping into his outstretched arms, frantically licking at his face and barking again, a fluffy ball filled to the brim with devotion resting on Chanyeol's broad chest. 

" _No,_ " his voice cracks. "You're overestimating me." 

Baekhyun moves closer slowly, watching Chanyeol's eyes flit back and forth between him and the floor, before leaning down to plant a kiss on top of the dog's head. The taller swallows thickly -- Baekhyun had always been so confident on the ice, but every now and then he'd have moments like this where he's comfortable enough to be bold and teasing. It makes Chanyeol's hands sweat. 

"Really?" Baekhyun's eyes crinkle in a smile. "But you're so  _cute_." 

"He's not _that_  cute," a woman's voice rings out suddenly, making the pair and Toben recoil from each other in shock. Baekhyun whips around to see a tiny, older woman in the doorway from the kitchen.

" _Mom!_ " 

Baekhyun almost laughs at the whiny tone Chanyeol's using, but then he remembers that this is Chanyeol's mom, and that he's never met her before. Shit -- he needs her to adore him. 

"Hello," Baekhyun's bowing in greeting, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears and the way his voice is strained. "Nice to meet you, I'm Baekhyun." 

"I know! Chanyeol's told me so much about you!" 

Baekhyun's lifting his head now, sparing a questioning glance to the taller. He hopes that his eyes convey the question of  _What did you say about me_? but he can't check for Chanyeol's response, not when there's a pair of soft hands on his shoulders and the smell of woman's perfume.

She's  _hugging_  him, Baekhyun registers, and he moves to reciprocate the contact. However unfamiliar it is, there's still a hint of motherly warmth, and it makes his heart ache the tiniest bit.

"Chanyeol calls me every night, and he's talked about you a lot! You're even sweeter than I expected."

At this, Baekhyun turns to look his boyfriend directly in the eyes, mortification setting in. It makes his heart race to think that Chanyeol had been telling his mom about him for longer than they'd actually been together, but then his mind flashes to the week he'd ignored Chanyeol, to the time he'd ignored him and left the coffee shop. There's a lot he hopes that she doesn't know, and it makes his palms sweaty worrying. 

"Why are you home?" Chanyeol questions as his mom moves to hug him, too. Baekhyun ignores how cold his shoulders feel without her. "I thought you were working today." 

"And let you guys come home to an empty house? That's sad. Don't be silly." 

Baekhyun thinks it's funny how his stomach flips at the way she says home, at the way Chanyeol's being whiny and acting like a baby, at the way this house makes him feel sedated and warm. The taller sets Toben down gently on the floor, inching forward to grab a suitcase and wrap Baekhyun's hand with his. 

"Why don't you bring your bags upstairs? Your dad will be home in a few hours. We can eat then, okay?" 

The walk to Chanyeol's room is silent, though they dissolve into giggles the second the door is shut behind them, the tension of this first meeting finally giving way to some sort of hilarity. Baekhyun refuses to let their hands disconnect, too giddy at the way Chanyeol's room reflects his personality. It's all blues, all soft stuffed animals and anime posters and sheer curtains. There's a lot of sports trophies from when he was little, a bookshelf filled to the top with ribbons and pictures of goofy boys in uniforms. 

"Cute," Baekhyun points out, and Chanyeol responds with an eye roll, pulling him to sit on the tiny twin bed with him. Before he knows it, they're cuddling, staring up at the stick on stars on the ceiling, Chanyeol's big hands holding his waist and head hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You're cuter," Chanyeol whispers despite his door being closed, as if it's some sort of secret that Baekhyun sets his cheeks aflame and heart beating. 

Baekhyun swallows the rush of emotions that comes with that statement, favoring to tease the taller some more. "So, you talk to your mom every night? About  _me_?" 

"Shut up," Chanyeol's voice is quiet and content against Baekhyun's neck. "Of course I talk about you. You make me happy."

\--

Baekhyun feels like a child again -- napping, waking up for dinner, and deciding what fun activity to do as a family. It's sweet to watch Chanyeol argue with his dad about the baseball game, to hear Chanyeol's mom humming old songs and calling Chanyeol's aunts, voice proud of her son and the way he's doing in school. 

"I think we should play a board game," Chanyeol's father's voice is exactly like him -- nice and loud. "That would be best." 

His mom, however, shoots this down immediately. 

"Look at Baekhyun's little face; he's tired. Let them sleep more. I'm planning on dragging them out and about town tomorrow, so they'll need to rest." 

Baekhyun wonders if his little face really  _does_  look tired, or if Chanyeol's mom is just considerate of Chanyeol's evident lack of sleep (as expected of anyone taking a medical track in college, he reasons.) Before Baekhyun can debate the status of his fatigue, though, Chanyeol's nodding at his mom, pointing a finger as if signaling for his dad to listen to her words. 

"I feel like I'm going to die if I don't sleep more," Chanyeol's voice is purposefully sullen and dramatic. "Especially after such a delicious meal. My stomach is full and I'm  _sleepy_." 

It works -- the next thing Baekhyun knows, they're deciding who's going to shower first and which side of the bed is whose. It's easily decided that Chanyeol will shower first, and that Baekhyun will get the side nearest the window, not the wall. They seal this agreement with a lingering kiss, one that's sweet and fueled by vague domesticity pulsing through the air. Only after half an hour of showering and changing and getting comfortable are they laying together, hands locked together under the blankets, serene silence coveting the pair. 

Baekhyun feels Chanyeol begin to move his face closer to him, nose brushing against cheek, mouth ghosting over lips. He leans forward, connecting them, and lets Chanyeol wind arms tightly around him. He's breathing harder than usual, as if everything Baekhyun does is infinitely powerful tonight, as if Baekhyun is the only thing on his mind. 

Baekhyun pulls their lips apart, moving to trace the outline of the taller's cheekbones with his pointer finger. It's delicate, but the impact it has on Chanyeol is profound, and soon the taller is hovering over him, eyes blazing and cheeks a rosy red. 

"I'm glad you're here with me," his voice is barely even a whisper. "I think I love you." 

The words fall like rain droplets, slowly at first, and then all at once, until Baekhyun is soaked with the thought of Chanyeol caring for him, with the sight of the taller's plump lips and soft eyes. Soon, all he can think is  _I think I love you I think I love you I think I love you_ , too overwhelmed with the force of Chanyeol's voice and its effect on his heart to combat the tears that are forming in the corner of his eyes. 

"Don't cry!" Chanyeol moves from on top of him, suddenly terrified and nervous and devoid of confidence. "Baekhyun, I'm sorry, I know it's too early, I shouldn't have --" 

"It's not you! I'm okay," Baekhyun's unaware of why he's crying, he just knows that there's so much happening, that he wants to kiss Chanyeol and tell him that everything's okay, that he never wants this warmth in his chest to die. 

"I'm --" 

Baekhyun cuts him off, rolling over so that his heart is directly on top of Chanyeol's, their bodies colliding. Then he's kissing him, moving his lips against Chanyeol's bottom one in a way that feels exhilerating and new and bruising, a way that sends a groan from Chanyeol's mouth into his. Lips meld together, and Chanyeol's thick fingers drag down his shoulders and waist and ass, until they rest at his hips, grip strong and gentle at the same time.

Baekhyun's gasping into Chanyeol's mouth at the contact on his hips, at the way they brush together in every sense of the word, at how hot this small room suddenly is. Chanyeol's regained his confidence, and it's evident in every touch and tender kiss, in the way Chanyeol shifts the pair until he's sitting up, Baekhyun in his lap, arms supporting the both.

"You're stronger than I thought," Baekhyun thinks it's funny to tease him, even in a situation like this, even when Chanyeol's pupils are blown wide as they meet his. 

"I'm the _captain_ of the football team," Chanyeol pouts and leaves light bites on Baekhyun's collarbone, licking over it a second later. "You know I'm strong." 

"Oh? Show me," Baekhyun is half teasing, half serious, and he revels at how quickly Chanyeol complies, lifting him up again until he's completely in Chanyeol's lap. His stomach drops as the taller peels off his shirt and starts on his own, and suddenly everything is too warm and too overwhelming. 

It's unspoken, but suddenly Baekhyun understands that Chanyeol is being serious, that there's nothing in the way he's touching him that suggests otherwise. It sets an entirely new flame alight in the pit of his stomach and he's shifting forward, lunging for Chanyeol's lips as soon as his shirt is off. 

His hands are rough as they grab for purchase against the bed and the taller and the wall, searching for any way to deal with the sensations that Chanyeol's producing with his tongue against his stomach. He stills Chanyeol's movements with his hands, slowly pulling the taller's head up to meet his again. 

"I think I love you, too," Baekhyun says it quickly and drops to Chanyeol's neck to avoid eye contact, to avoid the way Chanyeol's eyes see straight through him. He can't, though, not when large, warm hands push him down on the bed, sizzling heat settling between the blankets and bodies. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Chanyeol's completely sincere, a solemn tone coating the rasp forming in his voice. "I don't want you to be scared of me. Tell me when you want me to stop." 

Baekhyun's mind flashes wildly to the fact that, oh, he  _should_  be worried about this situation, about Chanyeol's strong hands and hungry eyes on him, but he isn't -- no matter how much he thinks, there's nothing psyching him out, not right now, not when he stares into deep brown eyes and sees love reflected in them. 

"Don't stop," Baekhyun's sure to make his voice clear, and places a soft hand over Chanyeol's, coaxing him to move his grip further down. "I trust you." 

That does it -- Chanyeol's pliant again, lips and hands roaming everywhere they can, eyes seeking approval and so much more. Minutes pass, Baekhyun's mind fogging over with lust and the feeling of Chanyeol all over him, at the thought of Chanyeol inside of him. 

He squirms from his place on the bed when he thick fingers finally enter him, Chanyeol's eyebrows furrowed and lips comforting against his collarbone. With each movement of his fingers comes a gentle kiss to Baekhyun's forehead or cheek or shoulder, lips pressed against the smaller as if each place he touches is sacred and sweet.

There's soft moans and breathy whispers of names, all brought to their crescendo when Baekhyun's delicate fingers wrap around Chanyeol, oh so slowly watching the taller's eyes shift from concentration to pure bliss, deep grunts pouring out. 

"I'm -- I'm ready," Baekhyun's voice is too far gone at this point from his attempt at staying quiet, from the labored breaths he's swallowed. "Please." 

It's slow and sweet and searing, all too much and not enough at once. Chanyeol's skin is slick with sweat, golden and glowing from above him. There's a moment where Baekhyun is positive that he's an angel, that Chanyeol is too soft with him to be real, but then he's thrusting in harder and Baekhyun is seeing stars. 

There's nothing to focus on, every part of the other's body too beautiful, the sound spilling from their lips all too primal. It's blinding heat and a cold sweat, a whimper and a kiss in response.

It's everything perfect, and Baekhyun doesn't want it to stop, even as his vision goes white and he doesn't think the pit in the bottom of his stomach can hold much longer, even as Chanyeol's hips stutter the same way, deep voice cracking against Baekhyun's soft skin. A few more staccato moments and arching backs and whimpers until Baekhyun is grabbing for Chanyeol's arm with one hand and himself with the other, voice high-pitched and almost nonexistent. 

"I'm going to -- oh my god, please, Chanyeol, please --" 

Every cell in his body convulses with pleasure, a choked sob tumbling from his lips and into Chanyeol's as the taller drops down for a breathy kiss, hot skin melting together in a puddle of ecstasy, of weak limbs and tired eyes and pulsing mouths.

Chanyeol's voice is deep and raspy in his ear, a defeated rumble, too spent to say much more than, "Me too." 

The moments after are filled with coital bliss, with a simmering heat that leaves them feeling connected in more ways that one. Baekhyun isn't sure he's ever felt his heart beat this fast, though he can't be sure whether it's from Chanyeol's presence or the sex, but it's enough to leave him gasping for minutes after. The taller spends his time peppering more kisses down Baekhyun's chest, hands absentmindedly circling his waist. 

It's completely silent, room settling back into a peaceful state of warmth and intimacy, and Baekhyun reaches out to pull Chanyeol's head up to his gently. He wants to look in his eyes, wants to smile at him, and so he does. Electricity crackles between the pair, and Baekhyun watches in adoration as Chanyeol's eyes upturn, content. 

"Can you sing for me?" Chanyeol is so timid to ask, voice diminished by both tiredness and shyness. "I love your speaking voice -- I want to hear you sing." 

Baekhyun hums low in the back of his throat, pulling himself closer to the taller, piling them against the wall. He sings a familiar ballad in a tiny voice and feels his eyes droop as Chanyeol keeps the beat with gentle fingers against his back. He drifts off while still humming, Chanyeol's warmth too intoxicating, the words  _I think I love you_  stitched into each breath he takes. 

\-- 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-) love you all lmao 
> 
> ok bye i have to shower and study because i have an exam tomorrow and i'm a mess! love you all and i hope you enjoyed!! leave me comments (i adore reading and responding!!!) bye bye <3
> 
> twitter: baekyalls  
> ao3: baekyall  
> curiouscat: curiouscat.me/baekyall


	13. thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6k of fluff awaits you <3

It numbly registers in the back of Chanyeol's mind that his hand is encircling Baekhyun's waist, that the morning sun has forced his eyes open against his better judgement, and, most importantly, that there's a sense of mortification sweeping over his newfound consciousness. 

For a moment, he doesn't comprehend the reason why his cheeks are tinted, why his hand tightens around the dip of Baekhyun's torso. But when he feels just how naked and warm the torso is, it hits him suddenly, all consumingly -- he and Baekhyun had sex in his _childhood_   _bedroom_. He's embarrassed, partly because of the fact that everything had happened so feverishly and suddenly, and partly because he knows that this is the least romantic place he could've imagined (and he had, many times.) But when he thinks back to Baekhyun's dark eyes and tantalizing lips, to the way he'd whispered so sweetly against Chanyeol's neck as they fell asleep, the embarrassment gives way to adoration, to a heavy heat lining his heart. 

He thinks about how Baekhyun had said his name, how the smaller's body was so strong yet so delicate when it moved with his, how they'd drifted off to sleep together in a state of bliss, arms and legs and hearts tangled together.   

It feels surreal to look at Baekhyun's closed eyes and pouty lips like this, to rub his bare back and share a warmth so wholly new to them both. He wants to marvel at the curve of Baekhyun's hips and memorize the moles dotting the shorter's shoulders and neck as if they make up his favorite constellation. He longs to spend hours tracing the outline of Baekhyun's lips and arch of his nose, to learn each imperfection that marks his skin and commit it to heart.

But he quickly realizes that he doesn't have time to fawn over the sleeping boy beside him, not when he notices that the sun isn't the sole reason for his waking up. Someone is calling his name over and over and over -- loudly. Belatedly, he connects the voice to his mother and the source as downstairs, an aggravated tone drifting up the staircase. 

 _Shit_ , Chanyeol is trying his best to detach himself from the smaller without disturbing him, s _hit, shit, shit._

He realizes very suddenly that he's naked and a little sticky and extremely shaky. He needs to shower, yet here he is, with less than a minute to get downstairs before his mom is barging in and judging him in a completely new light. Sure, she was fine with him dating Baekhyun, but he'd never really asked her permission for any of last night's events, and, in all honesty, he hopes to never have to address it with her. 

Grabbing a pair of boxers off of the floor and shimmying into them, he takes a deep breath before he leans out of his room, naked chest exposed to the bright hallway. 

"I'll be down in a minute!"

He hopes that he's yelled loud enough for her to hear, but he can't tell if he's satiated with her response, not when he feels warm hands on his back. They move from the center to wrap around his chest, a soft cheek pressed against his shoulder only a second later. The cheek rubs against him and then it's gone, a tiny kiss lingering where it used to be. 

"Cuddle," Baekhyun's voice is overly sleepy, and it makes Chanyeol wonder whether his heart with fall completely out of his chest and through the floor. "I'm tired and my butt hurts." 

Chanyeol coughs on air, turning around to see Baekhyun wrapped in his comforter, eyes lidded and mouth parted in a yawn. He looks too divine to be real, too golden and luminous to be contained in this tiny room, in Chanyeol's arms.

"I'll get you painkillers from downstairs, okay?" Chanyeol hates the blood that rushes to his cheeks, hates how Baekhyun smiles back at him like he's hung the stars. Most of all, he hates how his hands are trembling to touch the smaller, to ease any pain with soft lips and softer words as if there's nothing more that matters in the world. "My mom's yelling for me." 

"But I don't need medicine. I need to cuddle."

Baekhyun's pouting fully now, the abrupt wake-up call and sudden brightness putting him in a mood that Chanyeol's never witnessed before -- a mix between whiny and cuddly, all wrapped up in a pokémon duvet. It's cute, so utterly cute, he decides.

He leans toward the shorter, momentarily forgetting the chaos that's streaming through the back of his mind, thoughts focused only on the way Baekhyun's lips curl up in a pleased smile as he inches closer. 

"Chanyeol?" His mom's voice is much closer now, as if she's headed up the stairs, and the pair's eyes meet in shock, pushing on each other as they fumble back into the room, resulting in the door shutting with a tiny bang. Chanyeol curses internally at the noise that it makes, but he has no time to regret, not when he's positive that she's on her way, that he'll have to face his mom like  _this_. 

"Put on clothes," Chanyeol's already rummaging through his closet, grabbing a hoodie and sweatpants and chucking them toward his boyfriend.

Baekhyun makes a whiny noise as he tugs the pullover on, his voice muffled yet informative when he speaks up next: "You have a big hickey on your neck." 

Chanyeol guffaws, and Baekhyun laughs at the sound, pointing toward a dark red turtleneck on the far right of the closet. He's seemingly already chosen this as the perfect garment to cover the mark up, and Chanyeol obliges, pulling it on as Baekhyun hurriedly throws the cover back over the entire bed. The taller's tying the drawstring of his sweatpants when he hears footsteps approaching his door, and he lunges to open it, sidestepping into the hallway to meet his mom's eyes. 

"Are you up? I called for you," she shakes her head slightly. "Breakfast is ready. And we're going to the market today, so dress warm, alright?" 

Chanyeol nods, feeling his cheeks and ears heat up at the way his mom's eyes drift to his turtleneck. She seems a little confused, and Chanyeol feels his palms turn sweaty, but then she smiles approvingly at the garment.  

"That works. Bring a jacket, too, though. And give Baekhyun some gloves, will you?" Chanyeol nods firmly. "Come eat!" 

He watches her turn on her heel to go back downstairs, finally catching his breath as she disappears from his view.

When he finally shuts the door and makes eye contact with the shorter, he can't help but laugh at the sleepy, annoyed eyes that greet his. Baekhyun is still pouty, yet now he's dazed, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks pink from the way he'd dressed so quickly only moments before. 

"You're lucky I told you about that turtleneck," Baekhyun huffs, though Chanyeol detects no real anger in them, only a combination of drowsiness and neediness. He launches forward, placing a chaste kiss on Baekhyun's cheek in lieu of saying thanks, relishing in the gentle smile that the smaller offers in return.

"Do you still want to cuddle?" Chanyeol asks, though he knows that Baekhyun is much too awake (and too petty) to accept it now. "We could cuddle a little before breakfast." 

Baekhyun blushes, turning away from the taller to hide his reddening ears, and suddenly the events of last night seem to be hanging in the air, a silent tension working its way between the blushing pair.

"That charm doesn't work on me," Baekhyun protests, even as Chanyeol watches him break into another tiny smile.

He feels his stomach flip at the realization that he affects Baekhyun this much, that his words stir something in the shorter -- it makes him want to say something reckless, makes him want to close the distance between them, makes him want to forget breakfast altogether in favor of holding him again. 

"You look beautiful," he whispers, leaning toward the smaller as slowly as he can bear. Baekhyun seems fully awake now, nose scrunching, and he pushes the taller back with a teasing smile. He pinches his nose and shoos Chanyeol away with a flailing hand.

"And you smell bad," Baekhyun sticks out his tongue, eyes glimmering with warmth. "You can only cuddle me after a shower."  

\--

The market is filled with bright colors and brighter smiles, and as the trio wind their way through endless stalls and storefronts, the whirlwind of scattered voices and vivid images fill each of Baekhyun's senses to the brim. He spends the entire time attached to Chanyeol by their connected hands (much to the taller's delight, as he makes a point to squeeze Baekhyun's hand every few minutes). With countless distractions and unavoidable attractions, Baekhyun is focusing on weaving through crowds without losing the tiny Mrs. Park or each his boyfriend. 

Chanyeol is a bit of a sweetheart in this town, he soon realizes. Famous for his own achievements or his mom's praises, he's not sure, but it's clear that people know his name, know his mom, know that there is something magnetic about him. Baekhyun sees the recognition flare in each pair of eyes, and it's obvious to him that they're well-aware of Chanyeol's existence, whether they act on it or not.

For the most part, people greet Chanyeol's mom, nod to Chanyeol, and eye Baekhyun, confusion and unanswered questions floating in the air. To Baekhyun's relief, his boyfriend's mom doesn't seem to feel the need to overly explain anything, bidding everyone a good day and turning to motion for her boys to follow her. At the next shop, she again refuses to indulge anyone's judging looks, focusing only on the freshness of the food in front of her and the status of the boys behind her. It gives him a bubbly, warm feeling, and he thinks that, when he's surrounded by these two people, even a bustling winter market is bearable. 

At one point, they have to break their hands apart in order to carry the groceries comfortably, but Baekhyun doesn't think he's scared, not when he reflects on Chanyeol's warm hands on his shoulders, waist, hips. It's hard to forget what happened last night; the sizzle in his chest and the way all the air had escaped his lungs when Chanyeol's hands framed his face loop through his consciousness. He pushes it to the back of his mind, but it's still there, a simmering memory of tender touches and loving stares. Even when Chanyeol is seperated from him, arms shaking under the weight of vegetables and fresh fish, he feels a sense of security from his presence, a comfortable warmth draped over his shoulders. 

A group of uniformed boys passes them by, and Baekhyun feels his breath catch for a second, palms going slick. Of course there's a high school nearby, he reminds himself, and of course they would wear their uniforms -- they're not on break yet. He chides himself silently, willing his heart to cease its stuttering. 

"You okay?" Chanyeol's voice is low, as if he's making sure his mom can't overhear. 

Baekhyun's head snaps toward the taller instantly, still on edge, but he feels his staccato heart softening to a regular tempo when he recognizes familiar eyes. Calm down, he reminds himself, it's  _Chanyeol_. Chanyeol with fingertips that leave his skin tingling, Chanyeol who outshines the sun.

"I'm okay," Baekhyun's just as quiet as his boyfriend, nodding vehemently as he says it. He's not sure whether he's trying to convince himself or Chanyeol more, but he decides it doesn't matter, not when Chanyeol breaks out into a tiny, radiant smile in his direction. 

"You're okay. You're safe," the shorter wants to kiss his dimples. "You did well. I'm proud." 

Baekhyun nods back and scoots his way to the taller, allowing his head to rest against Chanyeol's shoulder for the briefest of moments. Chanyeol slows his walking pace, a look of soft astonishment taking over his entire face. Suddenly, Baekhyun recognizes the look as something bordering devotion, and it sets his cheeks alight, the strawberries weighing him down tenfold as his limbs seemingly melt. 

"I know I'm safe with you," Baekhyun's whispering, voice as low as possible, entire face turning red. He wants to kiss the taller, wants to feel strong arms wrap around him, wants to pepper kisses against Chanyeol's cold-chapped cheeks. "I always am." 

Maybe he's going to say something, or maybe he's debating leaning in for a soft kiss, but Chanyeol's eyes are completely focused on the shorter, lips parted. It's intense, and suddenly the memories of Chanyeol's deep voice in his ear and tight grip around his hips rushes back, leaving his skin broiling under his many layers. 

He's truly considering launching forward and capturing those pink lips with his, but then he hears an exasperated sigh from in front of him, a familiar motherly voice dragging the pair from their reverie. 

"Boys, we still need to go get fish. Can you please walk faster?" 

Chanyeol sucks in a breath so violently that it turns into a coughing fit, his face red from a lethal combination of embarrassment, chilly weather, and lack of air. He nods to his mom, eyes scrunched, and Baekhyun stifles a giggle when he sees just how red the taller's ears are. Red cheeks, red ears, red lips, red turtleneck -- Baekhyun thinks that the entire world is prettier when it's tinted rose. 

\-- 

"Let's call Jongin," Baekhyun's voice is whiny and drawn-out, his warm, drunken state of mind spilling into his actions. "I haven't talked to him in so long. I want to tell him things." 

Chanyeol is only slightly less drunk than the shorter. Their state is the product of mixing an awkward family gathering (and the obligatory drinking that follows it) and their attempt at getting in the Christmas spirit, achieved through overly boozy eggnog and cheesy movies. This combination proved too much for lightweight Baekhyun, leaving him a cuddly, gooey mess of emotions on the couch, tiny voice making Chanyeol's heart leap with each syllable. 

"Jongin needs to hear my  _life updates_!" 

"Baekhyun, shh," Chanyeol unwraps his arm from the shorter, reaching for the TV remote. "Don't be so loud. My parents have a Christmas party tonight, and they're leaving in a few minutes. You can call Jongin then, okay?" 

"Yay!" 

His voice is small albeit happy, and he raises his hands, shaking them, as if to express the joy radiating through his entire body at that very moment.

"What do you want to watch next?" Chanyeol yawns and runs his fingers through his hair, the events of the day suddenly catching up to him -- he's deadly tired, filled to the brim with savory foods and adoration for the smaller boy next to him.

"Oh," Baekhyun draws the syllable out, voice high and pleased. "Look at that! Your hair! So cool! You're so handsome." 

The taller turns red, deciding to focus on the remaining movies rather than comprehend just how adorable Baekhyun is when he's warm and cuddly and tipsy. 

"Chanyeolie," he giggles. The taller tries to act like the nickname doesn't sucker punch him in the gut. "You're  _so_  handsome. I love your face. Your cheekbones are so good. And so are your hands. Your fingers are so pretty. And I like when you use your fingers to --" 

Chanyeol leaps forward, covering Baekhyun's mouth with a gentle hand, shaking his head. 

"Please don't say that when my parents are right upstairs," Chanyeol feels his heart thudding far too fast, knowing where Baekhyun was going with that sentence, knowing that the smaller has no filter at the moment, knowing that it makes his mind take a turn. 

"Don't say what?" Baekhyun's voice is muffled, but the question rings clear. "It wasn't bad! I was saying loving things! I said  _your fingers are pretty! I love when --_ " 

"Baekhyun," Chanyeol's pleading as he removes his hand from the other's mouth. Baekhyun smiles, leaning in for a tiny, sloppy kiss on the taller's cheek. He makes a loud smooching sound, laughing at the way Chanyeol winces at both the action and the sound. 

"Chanyeol," he imitates the taller's begging tone. "Chanyeol, Chanyeol, Chanyeol." 

The taller can't lie and say that Baekhyun's voice and shimmering eyes aren't affecting him, that he doesn't want to giggle and lean on him, doesn't want to smother him with small kisses. But he wishes that Baekhyun could tone it down until they're  _alone_.

"We're heading out! We'll be back by midnight!" 

Baekhyun smiles at the now-familiar voice of Chanyeol's mom, cheeks puffing up as he beams toward the taller. He nods towards the staircase as his parents descend, prompting Chanyeol to look as well. What he sees makes him dissolve into laughter -- Baekhyun is waving wildly to his mother, and she's reciprocating the excitement, waving back just as quickly despite the heavy coat she has on over her dress. 

"We'll miss you! You look beautiful!" Baekhyun screams back and forms a heart for her with both of his arms, leaning back immediately after to join Chanyeol in giggling like fools on the couch. He turns on his side so that he's enveloped in Chanyeol's arms, Chanyeol's warmth, and continues his laughing. "I love her so much!" 

Over the sound of their own laughter, Chanyeol can vaguely hear his father mumbling something about them being drunk, but he's hushed by his mother and shooed out of the house shortly after, a newfound silence ringing throughout it. 

"Chanyeolie, I know," Baekhyun yawns before the corners of his mouth upturn in a satisfied smile. "Let's watch that one movie." 

"That's vague," Chanyeol's transfixed on the mole above Baekhyun's lips, on the way the room feels cozy and thrilling at the same time, on the effect Baekhyun's presence has on him. 

"The ice skating one. The one we watched in my room when I was sick," Baekhyun's smile grows at that, nestling further toward the taller. "You remember -- I told you I was sick, and you ran to me. And we were in my bed. We didn't cuddle then, though. Let's fix that." 

Chanyeol remembers. He remembers enough that it's probably considered embarrassing, but he doesn't mind, not when he thinks about the nervous way he'd swallowed the lump in his throat and the severe jolt of electricity he'd felt the second their shoulders had brushed together. 

He looks down at the glowing boy in his arms, at the warmth spreading from his eyes, at the memories that swim between them. 

"Okay, let's watch that one," Chanyeol leaves a kiss on the tip of his nose, noticing that Baekhyun has scrunched his lips up in expectation. He leaves one there, too, if only to appease the smaller -- or at least that's what he tells himself. 

Halfway through locating the DVD and getting the machines in the living room to cooperate with him, he's interrupted by a loud, overjoyed scream. He whips around to see Baekhyun yelling into his phone, a look of confusion taking over his face. 

"Siri, facetime Jongin," Baekhyun's voice is stern, as if his tone will get her to understand. " _Siri_." 

"Baekhyun, that's my phone," Chanyeol shuffles across the carpet, shaking his head, and replaces the empty space in Baekhyun's outstretched palm with the correct phone. "I don't have Siri." 

Baekhyun nods in understanding, a newer, brighter smile breaking out at the familiar device in front of him. "Siri, facetime Jongin." 

"Jongin!" Baekhyun's voice is sugary sweet, overhelmingly cute. "Jongin, look -- look how cute my boyfriend is. Look at him in his little turtleneck, and his  _reindeer socks_!" 

"What?" Jongin is confused but fond, obviously out of it from the sound of his voice.

Chanyeol is back to being huddled over the DVD player, but he turns in time to watch Baekhyun stumble to his feet and start on the three-foot trek toward him, arms outstretched and eyes glimmering. 

"He's  _looking_  at me, Jongin! Did you know that Chanyeol is scared of bugs? And that he doesn't like spicy food? I had to hold his coat because he got  _hot_  after eating spicy street food. He started sweating so badly, and it was so funny, Jongin, he's so funny. Really, he makes me laugh so much!" 

By the time this rant is over, Baekhyun has happily made his way over and draped himself across Chanyeol, face cradled in the taller's neck. Chanyeol makes eye contact with an extremely confused Jongin and smiles awkwardly, suddenly feeling a little tipsy with Baekhyun's entire body weight on top of him. 

"Baekhyun, are you drunk?" Jongin poses it as a question, though there's no doubt his facial expression of the true answer. "Are you okay?"

"Yes! Drunk in love!" Baekhyun guffaws at his own joke and rubs his cheek all over Chanyeol's. "Beyoncé sang that. And yes, I'm doing _great_! Chanyeol is the nicest boy alive, and he is so soft with me. Watch."

Suddenly, Baekhyun is wrapping his arms entirely around Chanyeol's neck and jumping toward him, attempting to climb up the taller, literally. Chanyeol yelps but catches him, stumbling back and wrapping strong arms under his boyfriend's thighs. Baekhyun, situated against Chanyeol and extremely proud of himself, adjusts his phone, screaming in joy again to Jongin's blurry face. 

"See? He _caught_  me! And we weren't even skating a routine," Baekhyun drops his voice. "He didn't have to catch me -- it's not his responsibility! He just _likes me_!" 

"Baek, I'm happy for you," Jongin's laughing, though Chanyeol detects a hint of sleepiness in his voice. "I'm actually really tired and busy, so I want you to be safe and have fun with Chanyeol, okay? I have to go." 

"Okay, okay, Jongin," Baekhyun swings his feet, leaving Chanyeol to compensate for their thrown off balance. "I'll talk to you when I get back to school. I love you!" 

Jongin laughs over the phone and begins to repeat it back, though he's cut off suddenly by Baekhyun's shrill scream. 

" _Kyungsoo_!" Baekhyun is practically yodeling, and then he's unwrapping his arms and leaning back so that Chanyeol can see him fully, pushing a phone into the taller's face. "Kyungsoo is there!" 

Chanyeol registers that, yes, that  _is_  his teammate on the phone. The football player had walked in the door while Jongin was still facetiming, face frozen in confusion. A lot of things connect at once for the taller -- Jongin and Kyungsoo were in the same room this late at night, and Kyungsoo came out in clothes a size too big for him. He was wearing Jongin's clothes -- it's painfully obvious. Chanyeol's cheeks burn in embarrassment for the both of them.

"Hi, Kyungsoo," Chanyeol smiles, giggling slightly at the short boy's wide eyes. He feels bad, really, but the bubbly effect of the alcohol does nothing to help his empathy at the moment. 

"Why is Kyungsoo there?" Baekhyun's voice is as slurred and loud as ever, but now his excitement has subsided, head seeking out Chanyeol's shoulder once again. Chanyeol pays no mind to the burn in his biceps, focusing rather on the way Baekhyun's chest is pressed so wholly against his, at how tiny he is when he's held like this. 

Jongin seems like he might answer, but then he's hung up, avoiding the conversation altogether. Baekhyun blows a puff of air onto Chanyeol's neck when he notices that it's been disconnected, disappointment ringing through in the tone of his voice. 

"He hung up," the taller can feel Baekhyun's pout against his neck. "He's way too shy about it. We  _all_  know." 

"I'm sure they'll tell us more when they're comfortable," Chanyeol reminds, voice deep and laced with exhaustion. "Let's watch the movie, okay?" 

And watch the movie they do -- although, Baekhyun refuses to let himself be detached from Chanyeol, leaving them sitting on the couch as one, a jumble of blankets and limbs and soft words. They barely make it twenty minutes before Chanyeol feels like he might actually fall asleep and, upon further inspection, he realizes Baekhyun already has. The smaller is knocked out completely, still wrapped around him, and he places a soft kiss on the top of his boyfriend's head. 

Baekhyun drifts in and out of sleep, feeling only truly awake for a brief moment in Chanyeol's room. The taller has just laid him down on the bed, and he wakes to the feeling of Chanyeol slipping off his jeans and covering him with the comforter. His mind is blurred by the alcohol and sleep, and the only thing that registers fully is how warm and safe he feels when Chanyeol slips into bed next to him, a small kiss placed on his forehead and gentle hand flared across his back. 

He smiles into the sheets, Chanyeol's affection seeping into every pore as he falls back asleep, warm and loved. 

\-- 

With a competition in only a few days, Baekhyun has to cut his time at Chanyeol's house short, leaving before Christmas truly arrives. But with the way his mom hugs him, Baekhyun decides that it's probably okay, that he'll get the chance to come back again soon if everything works out. 

Chanyeol had brought him back, despite him maintaining a full winter break, and Baekhyun laughs out loud as he watches his boyfriend struggle to drag all of his luggage through the small dorm hallways. As strong and agile as Chanyeol is when he plays sports, Baekhyun is baffled by the sheer clumsiness that slips out, though he's sure that it's one of the things that made Chanyeol so endearing to him. From the first time he'd watched the taller stumble his way across the rink, Baekhyun had known, had felt a tiny clench in his stomach, had laughed off the affection building for this boy. 

"I'll help," Baekhyun steps closer to grab one of the suitcases, close enough that he can see frustration hiding in Chanyeol's eyes. 

"It's not  _my_ fault that you packed twenty-five outfits for a week at my house," Chanyeol tries to sound exasperated, but his voice gives away his happiness at the last few words. It was so domestic, so lovely, and Chanyeol couldn't conceal how it made him feel, even if he tries. 

"You're lucky I'm too tired to argue with you," Baekhyun rolls his eyes playfully. "I need to say hi to Jongdae and take a giant nap before practice tonight." 

His roommate and best friend had scored a job on campus earlier that year, and so he'd decided to stay and work over break -- for the extra money, he'd informed Baekhyun, as if this was obvious. Jongdae  _had_  always been motivated by money, especially when it meant that he got free meals while on duty this winter. 

It had worried Baekhyun to leave his best friend completely alone over the break, but he's back early and fairly sure that the boy will be overjoyed to see him, that they will be able to watch movies and catch up until school starts again. With Chanyeol heading back to his parents house after dropping Baekhyun off, he knows he'll need someone to annoy -- luckily, Jongdae fits the bill. 

"Did you tell him you were coming back earlier than you thought?" Chanyeol asks, out of breath, as he lugs his end of the suitcase up the last stair. 

"Nope," Baekhyun stops in the hallway, wiping his forehead. "I'm going to surprise him with takeout and, well, me, obviously. We're going to bond and hang out whether he wants to or not." 

Chanyeol pushes the suitcase against the door, eyes tired and amused. 

"I'm going to miss you," he's pouting, and it makes Baekhyun's head feel light. 

"I'll miss you too," Baekhyun smiles, pulling Chanyeol closer by the sleeve of his jacket. He kisses him softly, vowing to not get too absorbed in this -- they'll see each other in less than two weeks. "Now, let's get this suitcase inside." 

Baekhyun rolls his suitcase up to his bed, slightly grateful to see his worn comforter. Even though Chanyeol's house had felt like a second home, it was still nice to be back, to have his shared space with Jongdae restored. He turns, spotting the dark head of hair sticking out from the pile of blankets in Jongdae's bed, and rolls his eyes. 

"He doesn't even work nights. Why is he so lazy?" Baekhyun complains, still whispering for the sake of his best friend. Chanyeol notices this detail, smiling at the soft way Baekhyun contradicts himself, a wave of fondness sweeping over him. 

As if Jongdae could sense his best friend's bad-mouthing, he rolls over, a low, annoyed noise slipping out. Baekhyun is about to roll his eyes when something clicks violently in his brain, and suddenly he's panicked. The hair length, the body type, the voice -- something is  _off._

"That's not Jongdae," Baekhyun's voice is quiet and frantic, this secret information whispered to Chanyeol as if his life depends on it. 

After a moment to process what he'd said, Chanyeol stiffens, a sense of fear and protectiveness washing over him, replacing the butterflies in his stomach almost instantly. 

"Then  _who_  is it?" 

"I don't know," Baekhyun is freaking out slightly, and he hopes it doesn't show outwardly, if only because he knows that Chanyeol will freak if he does. 

There's no reason that someone should be here in Jongdae's place -- there's no explanation for Jongdae to not be home right now. His mind jumps from conclusion to conclusion, imagining Jongdae quietly dropping out and forgetting to tell him, Jongdae being murdered and replaced by this imposter, Jongdae planning an elaborate prank on him somehow.

"I'll go look," Chanyeol steels himself, inching toward the other side of the room, even as Baekhyun reaches for him to try and stop his movements. 

He braces himself, ready to throw punches if something is truly wrong, and leans over the bed to get a look at the man's face. 

What he doesn't expect is to see his tallest teammate soundly asleep, neck and chest covered in hickeys, bags under his eyes. He looks  _awful_ , even by Chanyeol's turtleneck-wearing standards, and he suddenly connects all the dots in this constellation. 

He walks back as quickly and quietly as he can, pulling Baekhyun with him to the hall, attempting to be discreet and avoid any awkward conversations. 

"It's Sehun." Baekhyun opens his mouth to ask a question, but Chanyeol cuts him off, confirming what he was wondering. "Yeah,  _my_  Sehun. My teammate."

"But -- why?" Baekhyun is squinting at the floor, cogs in his brain turning slowly, methodically. 

"He was covered in hickeys. Do you think he and Jongdae?" Chanyeol shrugs wildly, as if it's the only thing he can think of doing. "Do you think they . . . you know?" 

"He has a  _girlfriend_!" Baekhyun attempts to keep his volume down, even as situations of Jongdae cheating play through his mind over and over. "I've met her before. They like each other a lot. Why would he cheat? Did he cheat? He wouldn't cheat on her, would he?" 

"What do we do?" 

Baekhyun shrugs in response, a confused silence settling over the both of them. He wants to know the truth, wants to investigate further and talk to Sehun, but he's scared to bring it up for fearing of making Jongdae feel angry or guilty, for fearing of rubbing a mistake in their faces.

"He's not home, so if I just leave, he won't know that _I_  know, and then it will be all okay, I think? I think." 

Despite all of his thinking, however, fate has it out for him today. He's barely registered Chanyeol's worried reaction before he hears footsteps down the hall. Instinctively, he moves behind the taller boy, looking up at him to confirm his suspicions. 

Chanyeol makes a pained face back, tiny nod confirming everything that Baekhyun had so feared. He grabs for Chanyeol's hand and moves to look down the hall, making direct eye contact with Jongdae as he does it.

"You're back already?" Jongdae smiles his big smile, nodding to Chanyeol in a friendly manner. He holds up grocery bags and shakes them in the air happily, as if there's nothing that he could be hiding. "I  _just_ got snacks! You're in luck." 

Baekhyun panics, even as Chanyeol squeezes his hand in support. 

"Are you cheating on your girlfriend?" Baekhyun's heart leaps as he takes in Jongdae's shocked face, as he feels Chanyeol stiffen next to him in anticipation.

"What?" Jongdae looks majorly confused, and then his mouth opens in a perfectly formed O, as if all the puzzle pieces have suddenly connected. "We broke up a while ago. You and Chanyeol were a little occupied fighting each other and cutting all your friends off, so I didn't tell you." 

Baekhyun feels guilt dripping in the back of his mind, flooding it with angry thoughts -- this wouldn't have been such a shock if he'd been a better friend earlier, if he hadn't run away. Jongdae realizes the effect that it has on him, grimacing immediately after saying it. 

"I had the chance to tell you, I just didn't," Jongdae clarifies, voice full of regret, a tiny smile working its way across his face. "It was mutual. And Sehun and I kind of happened -- it's casual." 

Chanyeol chokes at this, as if the thought of his younger teammate and Jongdae being casual is too much for him to take in. Baekhyun processes this slowly, and suddenly things become clearer, fog evaporating from the moor that is this situation. 

"So you and Sehun," Baekhyun's still thinking hard to try and comprehend this fully, to picture them as a pair. "You guys . . ." 

"Are friend with benefits," Jongdae nods, smiling, casually -- just like him and Sehun, Baekhyun notes. "We like the same video games. And we figured, hey, we may as well have fun inbetween." 

Baekhyun nods blankly at his friends bluntness, somewhat relieved by this casual answer, and searches for Chanyeol's shocked eyes in all of this. He looks dazed, cheeks a little pink, and Baekhyun kind of wants to pinch them, wants to reassure him that this is better than Jongdae cheating on his formerly-beloved girlfriend. 

"I'm going to head in and get Sehun up so we can all snack and game," Jongdae pats Baekhyun on the shoulder with a smile. "Glad you're home early!" 

Baekhyun and Chanyeol stand in the hallway, dazed, for another minute. 

"I'm going to act like this is normal," Baekhyun suggests, squeezing the taller's hand. He squeezes back, cheeks pink. "I have no other way of processing this information." 

"Good idea," Chanyeol says, and he pulls Baekhyun into his side, a moment of silence stretching between them. The silence is only broken by a sigh from Chanyeol, followed immediately by a large shrug. "Not my business, really. I'll just focus on passing my spring semester and making you laugh."

Baekhyun rolls his eyes to hide his satisfaction, stomach doing flips, and lets his head rest on the taller's shoulder. No matter how strange things get, at least Chanyeol is there to make dumb jokes. Closing his eyes against his boyfriend's shoulder for a moment, he lets relief flood his system, a peace settling between them that only Chanyeol has the power to bring. 

"Well, let's go," Baekhyun likes the way Chanyeol's voice is cheerful and joking now, as if he's already adjusted to the situation. His eyes are so bright that Baekhyun thinks he might go blind -- not that he minds, really. "I have to kick their asses in whatever game they're playing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok yeah that's one couple you....probably didn't expect? except for one of my twitter mutuals. she actually guessed it. i'm so proud and also sort of terrified
> 
> (also for you twitter peeps: yes! sehun/mystery man won the poll for the side couple..... but i wanted a tiny bit of kaisoo. i couldnt choose. sorry. forgive me lol) 
> 
> ANYWAYS this was a pretty soft, fluffy chapter and it's 6k so I think it kind of makes up for me being mia for a little bit. i had to go visit family and also exams exist. sorry guys! love you all! comments are always appreciated <3
> 
> twitter: baekyalls  
> aff: baekyall  
> curiouscat: curiouscat.me/baekyall


	14. fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3

Baekhyun has grown to like Sehun, despite the best-friend-induced hickeys lining his throat, the confidence that overpowers the brown in his eyes, the way he doesn't listen to any words directed at him. He's a bit whiny and extremely bratty, but he matches well with Jongdae, overall. Baekhyun knows his best friend and roommate well enough to tell that Jongdae thinks the younger boy is funny, that there's sparks of happiness and familiarity between them, even when they're just playing games and yelling at each other, voices high pitched and annoyed. 

It's cute to watch, the oldest boy notes, despite every cell in his body feeling slightly doubtful about this sudden couple, about the way their hands move toward each other, about the way they seem to ignore his presence altogether. Even from across the room, perched on his bed, Baekhyun can tell that the pair is having a good time acting like teenagers, hands gravitating toward each other despite the controllers in them. Sehun wins the game and jumps from his chair, arms raised in victory. Jongdae whines that he should've have won instead, that this stupid game was rigged from the start, but then Sehun sticks out his tongue at the shorter, and they both dissolve into giggles. It's soft, and laughter like this is what Jongdae deserves, Baekhyun knows. 

Baekhyun averts his eyes, looking toward the floor instead, embarrassed to be seeing their sugary interactions. He has two hours until practice, and he's been left alone without homework or his own boyfriend. Needless to say, it's a little tough to keep himself occupied while the juvenile pair flirt openly across the room, gaming slang thrown around in ways that clearly are meant sexually, though he kind of wants to clear that thought of his head entirely. He loves Jongdae, but he doesn't need to know the details of _that_ , truly. 

His mind wanders to what Chanyeol is doing, to the way the boy's family is probably piling into his house right now. It'd been made abundantly clear that Chanyeol's mom prefers to host everything, that their extended family always came at least a week early for the holidays. As much as he'd wanted the taller to come back to school early with him, it was laid out early on that his boyfriend would be preoccupied with babysitting his little cousins until the season had passed.

Baekhyun's heart had leapt at the thought of the taller boy chasing around the toddlers and children, voice loud and laughter louder, but he'd pushed that to the back of his mind, fearing that too much of that image would actually send him into cardiac arrest. Now, however, he's zoned out on his bed, mind absently filling the void of his mind with Chanyeol's smiles, with next semester's schedule, with the notes of a familiar song drifting through his thoughts. 

Now that he's figured out how to block out the lewd flirting and aggressive gaming only five feet from him, he's pretty comfortable, honestly. Comfortable enough to close his eyes and get under the covers and take a tiny nap before he needs to go skate this afternoon. He's almost there, _so_  close to drifting off, but then his phone buzzes against his arm, and he jolts. 

**from: big dae energy**   
_don't you have to go somewhere??????_

Baekhyun's head snaps up to look at his best friend, surprised by the passive aggressive text. No, he _doesn't_ have anywhere to go for at least a few hours. The shorter had messaged him only seconds earlier, but as he searches for eye contact, Jongdae is completely ignoring his actual, physical presence. 

**to: big dae energy**   
_no??????????_

Baekhyun watches as his friend rolls his eyes and sets to typing, eyebrows furrowed. It doesn't seem like Sehun has noticed what's transpiring between the roommates, too focused on commenting back to someone on the chat forum, voice agitated as he explains to Jongdae what's happening. Jongdae nods along with Sehun's complaint, and the taller boy sets to formulating an equally rude response on the computer.

**from: big dae energy**   
_it wasnt really a question....._

**from: big dae energy**   
_me and sehun would like for you to be busy pls......_

It clicks, and suddenly Baekhyun is mortified. Jongdae and Sehun's mindless flirting hadn't been so mindless after all. He _needs_  to get out of here before he has to see anything he doesn't want, before this situation turns into something that Jongdae is already anticipating. He stands, throwing a coat and scarf on as quickly as he can, backpack slung over his shoulder, and waves to the pair. 

"Going to go get lunch and read at the library," Baekhyun notices the smile Jongdae gives him, genuine and shy, but still a little apprehensive. As expected. "Then I have practice. It'll be a while. Good luck on your game." 

"If you talk to Chanyeol, tell him I love him!" Sehun's not joking, Baekhyun realizes, and it takes him a moment to comprehend just how pure that was for him to say.

He nods and returns Sehun's smile, ducking out of the room with a twinge of pink of his cheeks, a hopefullness for Jongdae's relationship in each step. Maybe Sehun is whiny and bratty with a pinch of caring, but maybe that's what Jongdae needs, really. 

\-- 

After hours of practice, Baekhyun is convinced that his legs might actually snap in half. He'd hoped to venture back to his dorm to see whether Sehun and Jongdae had vacated the premises yet, but after so many days without continuing his skating routine, Baekhyun is much too tired to cross the entire campus in this frigid cold. 

And so he's keying into Chanyeol's room -- empty, since both Chanyeol and Yixing were still at home for the break.

The taller had explained that, with Sehun and Jongdae being in a new relationship, it might be easier for Baekhyun to just crash at his place for a few days, giving him the ID card and pin. Baekhyun had disregarded this, feeling too awkward to break into Chanyeol's dorm, especially since he'd only been there once or twice since they started dating. However, after that grueling practice, with frigid air filling his lungs to their limit and turning his nose red, Baekhyun longs for nothing more than a warm bed that smells like Chanyeol. 

The building isn't hard to find, and the room is even easier, an obnoxious sign with Chanyeol and Yixing's names spelled out adorning the door. Baekhyun studies the way the red and purple letters glimmer against the light of his phone's flashlight as he pins in the combination and waits for the familiar sound of a door unlocking, heart racing at the thought of seeing this room by himself, at the thought of Chanyeol knowing that he's sleeping there. 

He toes out of his shoes, cautiously looking around for Chanyeol's roommate, even if it's simply out of paranoia. Luckily, he's met with a dark room, the only light a dim fragment of the winter's fading dusk. It streams in from a window by the closet, tinted green from the curtains that hang over it, and Baekhyun feels like he's wrapped up in Chanyeol's favorite green hoodie, that he's suddenly surrounded by warm hands and deep laughter -- it's calming, and every muscle that had hurt so much before relaxes almost immediately.

The room itself isn't anything special, smelling of boy mixed with eucalyptus, decorated with standard navy blue everything, but Baekhyun likes the way it feels so much like Chanyeol, the way it makes his eyes droopy and hands warm. It's only after the hottest shower he can bear, when he's enveloped in a sweatshirt that Chanyeol had left hanging in the closet, that he remembers how late it must be by now -- the children are probably laying down, and his boyfriend is free for the briefest of moments. 

He texts Chanyeol to get on his laptop, tells him that he needs to facetime. He also throws in the words "I miss you," but that's only because Baekhyun thinks he might be too scared to say it out loud, not when Chanyeol is looking back at him like he always does, eyes intense and ever-searching for a hint of emotion on his face. It's reciprocated, and Baekhyun reels over the fact that Chanyeol misses him too, moving to start the call.

The facetime goes through immediately, Chanyeol's blurry face popping up on his screen with an almost scary speed. He's laying in his bed -- Baekhyun recognizes the duvet and the way it had wrapped around him that embarrassing morning when they'd almost been caught. 

"Hey," his voice is warm and deep, everything that Baekhyun had remembered it being, and it makes his cheeks tingle pink. 

"Chanyeol," he yawns a tiny bit. "How are you?" 

Watching Chanyeol's eyes trail down to the crewneck he's got on, eyes lighting up in recognition, sends a warm thrill through Baekhyun. Suddenly, he wants to kiss the taller feverishly, wants to feel the heat between them, wants Chanyeol to know that he misses him this much. 

"I'm good. My cousins are downstairs watching a movie," Chanyeol's voice is strained, embarrassed, and Baekhyun smiles knowingly. "Are you --"

"One second," Baekhyun slides into the bed that he easily recognizes as Chanyeol's (the overflow of pillows and stuffed animals had been a great hint, but the polaroids of his family on the wall next to it had confirmed Baekhyun's suspicions.) It's warm, and it really does smell like the taller, so Baekhyun finds himself snuggling deeper into it, blanket pulled up to his neck to keep all the warmth in.

Chanyeol's beaming, eyes teeming with fondness at the image of Baekhyun curled up in _his_ clothes in _his_ bed, hair damp and exhaustion evident. It feels like Chanyeol is peppering kisses over his cheeks just from the intensity of his gaze, and Baekhyun's toes curl at the thought of the taller being here with him, wrapping him up in warmth, and whispering about his day. 

"You're at my dorm?" he comes off as awestruck, and Baekhyun loves that he can see just how red the taller's ears are turning, even when it's dark and blurry. He doesn't think any level of distance or static in between them could keep him from picking up on the little things about Chanyeol, could stop him from noticing everything that makes the taller so lovable to him.

The first time they'd talked in the rink, Baekhyun had thought he was oversized and gangly, prone to laughing at his own jokes, and now Baekhyun has confirmed all of this to be true -- though now these qualities send his heart into a flurry, smile forming because he knows just how Chanyeol will act next, knows that he's the kindest, prettiest boy he's ever met.

"I didn't want to walk back after practice," he pouts, loving the way Chanyeol's cheeks twinge rose. "It was too far. I was tired and cold. And I don't trust Jongdae and Sehun to not go for it while I'm in the room. So, here I am." 

Chanyeol is still flustered, but he seems to have calmed down, at least fractionally. 

"If you get thirsty or hungry, we keep water in the fridge, and there are snacks in the top left shelf of my closet." 

"You sound like a mom," Baekhyun sticks out his tongue, giggling at how offended Chanyeol's face turns. "I'm fine. I picked up something to eat before practice."

Chanyeol laughs along a little, before his voice turns softer, "I wish I was there with you." 

His words hit the smaller like a jolt of electricity and suddenly he's leaning in toward his phone with puckered lips. It feels childish, but Baekhyun thinks that it's okay to be childish and dumb when love is clouding his eyes, when all his senses are overwhelmed with Chanyeol. He moves back from this fake kiss to see Chanyeol's bright eyes following his every movement, tender and attentive. 

"That was a little gross, honestly -- the noises," Chanyeol shakes his head and adjusts to be more comfortable in his twin bed, mimicking the position Baekhyun has himself in. "But I liked it. I like you even when you're gross." 

"Oh, I  _know_  you like it," Baekhyun means to be joking, but Chanyeol's expression turns a little darker, eyes reflecting unsaid words, the want to be with each other in more ways than one. It's hard, Baekhyun thinks, to spend so much time looking at his boyfriend without being able to feel his presence next to him, without the chance to work out the frustrations that build up everytime their hands brush together, so gentle and so lacking in what's needed. 

"I wish I was there," he repeats, though the tone has changed. "I miss you. And your lips and your hands and --" 

Baekhyun wheezes out a cough, mind still recovering from Chanyeol's sudden declaration. He's not strong enough for this, he knows -- not right now. There's a lot he wants to say, to do, but he can't think too hard about any of it, not when he's so comfortable in Chanyeol's bed, not when his heart was feeling so light only moments before.

"You'll be here soon, right?" 

"Of course. I'm driving down after Christmas to watch your competition," Chanyeol's eyebrows furrow, and his eyes look to the ceiling while he thinks. "That's, what, a week? I'll be back in no time."

"Good. I want you to get back quickly," Baekhyun yawns again, this time so loudly that Chanyeol startles on the other end. It makes them both laugh, and the shorter can't make out what's happening on the other end because Chanyeol has dropped his laptop. It's endearing, so very Chanyeol of him, and Baekhyun is struck by a wave of intense fondness as he watches the blurry figure struggle to pick it back up, wheezing. 

"You need to sleep," Chanyeol's picking the laptop back up, and suddenly his face is extremely close to the camera. "You're tired and you worked hard. Get some rest, okay?" 

Baekhyun can't even feign that he's wide awake because he yawns again, this time brought on by Chanyeol's words. "Okay. Sleep tight, Chanyeol." 

He wants to say more but he doesn't. He can't do it, not when his throat catches as he thinks about being that vulnerable, about what Chanyeol might do if he lets words like that be said so casually. There'd been moments when he'd let it slip, moments when the air was warm and their bodies were inseperable, but saying it in _this_ situation feels so open, so real, so new. 

"Goodnight," Chanyeol mimics Baekhyun and gives the camera a kiss, sloppy and gross but endearing. "I love you." 

Then the screen is black, leaving him staring at his own red face in the reflection of his phone, heart pouding. He'd been so panicked, but Chanyeol hadn't thought twice -- hadn't needed to. He'd always known that the taller was more open with his feelings, that he wore his heart on his sleeve, but this revelation sets a spark alight in his chest. Of course, the taller would fear nothing, would focus only on making his feelings known, on making Baekhyun a puddle of emotions.

"I love you too," Baekhyun whispers into his phone, watching as the voice message sends. 

He suddenly feels nervous, heart drumming to a beat too rapid for him to handle, and so he puts his phone down, focusing only on the way Chanyeol's voice had sounded so sincere when he'd said it, the way Chanyeol's blankets shroud him from any worries of the world outside the two of them.

\-- 

Over the week, Baekhyun gets used to staying at Chanyeol's, texting Jongdae for updates on whether he's allowed to come home, and laughing with Sehun when they all meet up for breakfast. It's nice -- Sehun is good at making conversation, is even better at sharing Baekhyun's adoration for girl groups, and, most of all, he's fantastic at making Jongdae smile. The week passes by in a flurry of sore muscles and facetime calls -- Baekhyun counts the hours until his final competition, until Chanyeol's lips are pressed against his, until his life returns to semi-normality. 

Chanyeol had, of course, been devastated on Christmas morning when he realized that they hadn't spent their first Christmas together. Baekhyun had tried to console him, had told him that, no matter what, he would still have to practice this evening -- it's better for him to be with his family, after all. 

He says this, though he still feels an empty sadness creeping into his chest, blossoming with each hour that he spends alone, giftless, boyfriendless, in the library and on the ice. Jongdae had bought him a giftcard to his favorite restaurant and written something stupid in the card about using it to buy food instead of just eating Chanyeol's ass -- something that Sehun had cackled about, which, in turn, made Baekhyun giggle a bit too, despite himself. 

That night, as Baekhyun gets comfortable in the taller's bed, his facetime call is picked up by a teary-eyed Chanyeol, nose running. Panic, of course, floods his veins -- was someone hurt, did a family fight happen, is Chanyeol okay?

The taller quickly assures him that he's completely fine, just torn up about not getting to see Baekhyun on Christmas, sad about missing out on kissing under the mistletoe ("There is no mistletoe here, though." "Yeah, but it's the  _thought_  that counts.")

To calm the taller down, Baekhyun sings him a carol over the phone, watching his boyfriend sullenly dry his tears and allow himself smile instead, nose still red, eyes soft and overflowing with devotion.  

 _Soft-hearted Chanyeol,_ he thinks, _I love you._

\-- 

Chanyeol's hands wrap around his waist instantly, pulling him up in a makeshift jump -- one that Baekhyun easily glides into, arms finding their place around the taller's neck. His feet are dangling off the ground and Chanyeol is spinning them together, reminiscent of the time they'd spun like this on the ice, feet tangled, leading Baekhyun to initiate their first kiss, tender and scared.

This time, Baekhyun smashes his lips against the taller's confidently, smiling into it as Chanyeol slows their spin to nothing. Their lips stop moving too, slowly, just as slow as Chanyeol loosening his grip around the smaller. Baekhyun's sliding down to stand on the ground -- the snow crunches under his feet, and Chanyeol's scarf hits him in the face, but it's okay. 

"I'm back!" Chanyeol's voice is gravelly, giddy, and his grin is eclipsed by his teeth chattering against the wind. 

"You're back," Baekhyun thinks of the first time they'd sat next to each other in class, how desperately he'd worked to avoid Chanyeol's lingering eyes. Now, he thinks he could live in the sunshine of Chanyeol's smile for an eternity, could discover depths unknown in his eyes, given enough time.  

"Let's go inside," Chanyeol suggests, squinting against the sunset in search for his dorm. It tints his face a golden color, and Baekhyun can't stop himself from grabbing Chanyeol's hand in his own. "I'm cold." 

They lug Chanyeol's bags back into his room, collapsing on his tiny twin size bed immediately after, hands longing to feel each other's heartbeat. It's slow, the way they kiss as the sun sets over them, and it's slow, the way Baekhyun rids himself of the layers between them. His body is moving at Chanyeol's gentle pace, but his mind is so eager -- he wants to feel every bit of love that Chanyeol hadn't been able to express, wants to show Chanyeol how much he'd missed him, missed _them_  together.

Chanyeol is panting as he tries to rid himself of the parka he's wearing, one hand preoccupied with the buttons on the front, the other trailing down Baekhyun's neck. It feels too warm in here -- he whispers this sentiment between kisses -- and soon he's only in a t-shirt and jeans, hands helping to get Baekhyun's sweater off. 

Suddenly, their arms are freed and touching each other, skin on skin too much for either to take in. Their mouths open against the other's, a parted breath of longing and happiness, touches that promise much more filling each moment. Baekhyun thinks he might pass out from the way Chanyeol drags his teeth across his lip, too languid and daunting, not enough of what he needs right now.

"Stop," he sounds whiny, he knows, but he can't take this, not right now. "I missed you too much for you to be all slow." 

Chanyeol smiles and Baekhyun feels it press into his lips, feels Chanyeol bite harder on them, a nip that sends fire crawling through Baekhyun's veins, volts of electricity springing to life behind his eyelids.  _This_  is what he wants -- his mind is buzzing with opportunities, with the feeling of Chanyeol's lips leaving his. 

"I can't," Chanyeol responds, dropping his head to leave a kiss at the base of Baekhyun's neck softly. Too softly, the smaller notes. "You have a competition tomorrow." 

Baekhyun stills, disappointed, just as Chanyeol's head moves to ghost over his stomach, moving lower and lower, his jumper being pulled up as the taller makes his way down. 

"I'll be fine, really," Baekhyun is squirming against the feeling of Chanyeol's mouth so close to his navel, the emptiness that his inaction is causing spreading further and further. "Please?" 

Chanyeol shakes his head, curls brushing against Baekhyun's stomach so softly. He unbuttons the shorter's jeans, and Baekhyun suddenly understands that Chanyeol doesn't want to hurt him, not when he needs to perform tomorrow, but that doesn't mean that he won't close the distance the week had imposed. Baekhyun leans over to kiss the top of Chanyeol's head, mind spinning, and allows Chanyeol to push him back on the bed, the sheer wonder of this boy in front of him overwhelming him wholly. 

\-- 

Skating has always been a part of his life, just like breathing, like eating -- though Baekhyun figures he's had to work at it harder than anything else, has had to invest countless hours so that he can feel confident on the ice. The rink is a safe space, a place where he knows he can live up to his own expectations, to his coach's expectations, can defy the remarks that were spewed at him during high school.

Skating, to him, is the safety and confidence he couldn't feel in his day to day life -- and as Baekhyun takes the ice for his last collegiate competition, it feels like he's letting a piece of his worries melt away, letting himself realize that he is as powerful off the ice as he is on it. 

It's liberating, and it makes hitting every jump, every spin, feel like more of a joyous occasion. There's no struggle, no strife, not when he's alone on the ice, flowing against the cold, cutting through the elements to the most delicate song he's ever heard, one that he associates with shy glances, shared laughter, learning to breathe.

There's a peace that settles over his features as the piece starts, a dreamlike quality floating through the air. By the time he's come to his ending, to the jump he'd worked for years and years to master, the music has picked up its pace, faster and more sporadic, though the notes are still played so delicately. Baekhyun tries to be delicate, graceful, tries to let himself feel as though he's stumbling through this dream world, too, that he's suddenly broken out of a trance, that he's seen the light at the end of the tunnel for himself. 

There's nothing he can't do, not when he controls himself so well, not when the ice listens to his every command. He's leaping, floating, gliding, and suddenly he's landed the jump, legs strong and stable, mind whirring out a million possibilities. He's glowing, he thinks, he must be glowing. His cheeks hurt from smiling and his hands are so shaky, a breath coming out staggered against his own hand as he moves to cover his mouth. 

He bows, numbly registering loud cheers from the crowd and his teammates, feeling the freedom that he'd skated with following his every movement. 

Just like that, the music is over, and he’s skating off the ice, limbs so numb yet so limber, face aching with a smile that he can’t stop. He won't cry while he bows like last time, he's sure, because he'd come here knowing he could do it, had made this dream his own, had walked himself out of it willingly.

He's broken out of the revêrie that had engulfed his mind, his character, on the ice. He'd shattered the peaceful chords with his black clothes and red eyes, with the learned strength of his skating, with the confidence he hadn't known he had. Free, he realizes, he feels free. He's so light, so elated, and he knows that Chanyeol was right along -- there is nothing more that he could want, no other career that could make him feel this way.

Skating is the piece of him that he'd always come back to, no matter if there were demons in the back of his head he had to prove wrong, no matter if there was a tug on his heart to exceed his own expectations. It comes to him innately, made of tears and sweat and smiles, a sacred kind of pain and reward.

Jongin engulfs him in a hug as he stumbles off the ice, excitedly yelling, though Baekhyun can't register much right now, not even when three other skaters come to pat him on the back and leave sloppy kisses on the top of his head. 

He's still in a blur of friends and Chanyeol -- how did he get down here? Baekhyun doesn't care, not when he feels warm hands stabilize him -- when the results are announced minutes later. He can't breathe, can't force himself to struggle against the cold air and the body heat around him, feeling as though the mixture will cause a tornado in his stomach, will leave him spinning and confused.

It's all so quick, and before he knows what's really happening, he's pushed forward to receive his medal, to shake hands with the judges as the first place winner. It still feels surreal, even as he finds himself screaming in joy and leaping toward the mass of people gathered around him, sequin outfitted teammates and hoodie-wearing boyfriends alike. He's crying red-stained tears against Chanyeol's shoulder, a sense of relief and purpose settling over him so suddenly that he belatedly realizes how much his shoulders had sagged in doubt, how much each day had felt as though he was fighting himself. 

"I want to do this," Baekhyun gasps out, voice hoarse but filled with conviction. He feels Chanyeol tighten his arm around his shoulder, indicating that he's listening, that he understands. "I want to be a skater, Chanyeol. It doesn't matter what other people think. It's all I want. I want to feel like this always." 

Chanyeol nods and kisses the crown of his head so softly that Baekhyun thinks it might just be him breathing, but there's an inkling that he's right deep inside his bones. His surroundings are chaos, but he's so calm, so convinced of what he wants to do in the future, of who he wants to spend it with. The thought makes his shoulders shake again, so he turns his head against Chanyeol's neck, leaving a tiny kiss as a way of saying _thank you for believing in me, thank god I believe in myself._

\--

Everything is shimmering, glittery, translucent. The entire room is iridescent with fake diamonds and crafted, glimmering decorations (Kyungsoo had spent hours scouring pinterest for ideas, Chanyeol explains, pride evident in his voice and gaze.) The room is overflowing with drinks and food and people, everyone's voices loud enough to drown out the soft music that reverberates off the walls. It's enough to make Baekhyun feel a little overwhelmed, enough to send him and Chanyeol outside into the cold air for a breather. 

Baekhyun is warm enough in his fuzzy jacket, but he likes when Chanyeol's arms are around him, so he doesn't protest, especially not when Chanyeol leans his head against Baekhyun's shoulder and lets their breathing sync.

It's quiet out here, with only a faint thrumming of bass that reaches them, but the dazzling decorations can be seen from the window. It reflects sparks of rainbow on Chanyeol's cheekbones, leaves Baekhyun twinkling in the moonlight. They're both a little tipsy -- champagne adds up, at least in Baekhyun's case -- and it makes his mind focus on the tiny details of Chanyeol's face, on the moles he'll make sure to kiss later, on the dimple that fascinates him. 

"He's proud, you know," Chanyeol nods to the window. Baekhyun watches Kyungsoo beaming up at a familiar skater, eyes glittering just like the party he'd worked so hard to throw. "He's proud of you and Jongin. He was so excited to do this for you guys." 

Baekhyun smiles and lets his head rest against Chanyeol's softly, inhaling the scent of his shampoo and the clear night air. It's peaceful, unlike the utter ruckus inside, unlike the chaos he's sure will ensue in a few minutes. There's not much time left, he thinks absentmindedly. 

"I'm thankful that he made the party themed for figure skating  _and_ new year's eve," he yelps at the way Chanyeol's laugh tickles his neck, squirming away from the taller. "I'll make sure to thank him a lot later." 

"Just get him something for his birthday -- it's in January," Chanyeol's eyes go wide in panic, face reading as if he's suddenly remembered something vital. He's moving forward so quickly that Baekhyun is caught off guard, trapped in a warm hug with Chanyeol leaving his face stinging with kisses. 

"What?"

"We didn't get each other Christmas gifts!" Chanyeol whines, each word punctuated with a tiny kiss on Baekhyun's cold cheeks, nose, lips. "It's okay, though -- you're  _my_  favorite gift!" 

Baekhyun groans at the cheesiness, moving his head from side to side so that the taller has a hard time figuring out where he should kiss next. His pulse has quickened because of the words, but he doesn't want to admit that such a sentimental, corny line could have that much of an effect on him.

"Am I not your favorite gift?" Chanyeol's smiling, eyes wide and focused on Baekhyun's, sweetness dripping in his voice and warm affection pulsing through his fingers. 

Baekhyun blushes beet red, closing his eyes. 

"You're my favorite gift," Baekhyun whispers back. It feels so silly and dumb to say, but suddenly Chanyeol is kissing him like it means more than that, and it's okay -- he'll say it as many times as the taller wants. They're smiling against each other, lips and cheeks slightly numb as Baekhyun makes a grab for Chanyeol's jacket, pulling him closer in this divine light, this sacred darkness. 

Then the door is opening, and Yixing is groaning at the sight before him. 

"Stop that. Come inside and watch the countdown," Yixing's pulling them toward the door, and the pair stumble in after him, the sudden warmth hitting them like a wall as they're handed glasses of champagne. They really were almost out of time, Baekhyun realizes, cheeks still flushed from Chanyeol's actions outside. 

The crowd is screaming, counting down until the new year, and Baekhyun joins in, liking the way Chanyeol's arm wraps around his waist so naturally, as if there had never been a moment they'd been without each other. Then it's midnight, and they're downing the glass, pulling each other in for a giddy kiss, one that tastes like champagne and promises of the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's........over...........
> 
> I totally didn't cry thinking about it being over? I didn't. Promise. :') 
> 
> Also: I'd like to thank Jo (softnmessy on aff) because she.......is my heart and soul? and she has been here throughout my entire fanfic journey and....this is the 3rd one I've finished with her as my part-time angel/favorite motivator. I adore you babie :( 
> 
> And a big thank you to everyone who's commented, who's stuck with this story and its irregular updates. I owe you all the world, my heart, and probably a lot more. Thanks again, and  a good morning/good morning one last time! 
> 
> I love you all with all my heart <3
> 
> twitter: baekyalls  
> aff: baekyall  
> curiouscat: curiouscat.me/baekyall


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